I’m eating the chocolate cookie they gave me when I checked in at the business man’s special, a Holiday Inn or Ramada, one of those. Not far from the airport, where I was stranded all afternoon. Some plane didn’t make it for hours and hours, and it stranded lots of us. The poor clerks took the brunt of it, and they were very good, hustling to find me a flight to get me to Colorado in time to get to Keystone tomorrow, which is all I care about. I leave at the crack of dawn, so early that when I told the clerk I wanted a cab for 5 am and he said the airport doesn’t open till 5:30 and I could wait until 5:15.
The room is seventies chic, updated, but not obscured. White painted brick walls and a groovy vibe. There is a great pond in the middle of the courtyard, but since I didn’t make a reservation, that is not my location. I had not had much to eat since lunch and hiked out in the dusk to see what I could find. Found a supermarket but mindful of the walk back, only bought some rice cakes and soda water. Thus, I made do with cookies.
I have to say that I very rarely get stranded while traveling, so this is rare. I feel badly about missing the awards ceremony tonight at the conference, when I could have been there after all. This afternoon, when businessman after well-tended matron after pink-golf-shirted Masters of the Universe were cursing about not getting to their destinations until Saturday (one of them Denver!) I was worried that I might miss the walk, and was very agreeable about everything except not getting to Colorado tomorrow morning. It took hours, but they found me a route.
C’est la vie. This, too, is travel. It isn’t like getting stranded in Denver during a blizzard and all the food running out. Or left behind in Paris the day after 9/11, which happened to a friend of mine. Or getting stuck during Katrina in New Orleans. It isn’t even driving across the midwest as a mixed-race family with two young children during the floods in ’93, trying to get to a conference. This is ordinary stuckness. I didn’t have to sleep in the airport. I have a bed and plenty of comfort.
What is your worst getting stuck story?