It wasn’t like it hadn’t ever happened before. As a matter of fact, it was the third flight I booked, in a row, that was delayed because of a mechanical issue with the plane. When the announcement came through the speaker (awfully soft and tinny for a device right above my head) I could only think that I was living in a farce. A damned inconvenient farce of a situation that I should have absolutely known was going to happen to me. Again. And Again. (And for, of course, the third time in five months.) It’s just the way that it was. 

Part of me feels that I’ve traveled so much that I should be positively nonchalant when these inconveniences presented themselves, but it’s not the case. I seethe in a way that I used to only demonstrate when I would yell at strangers while driving in traffic, albeit in a much more quiet and, hopefully, dignified way (except for the other passengers situated within a five foot radius that could absolutely hear every fuck, damn, and shit I muttered) than I had demonstrated in the confines of my own car. I understood what was happening, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to be happy about it.

To be honest, I‘m not sure what sparked my ire first–the fact that I knew that after I had just spent 30 minutes cramped in my seat while flight attendants readied the plane (and I was in Group six for god’s sake and was the absolute last to board) and I was looking at a delay of at least another 45 minutes (not including taxiing to the runway and the actual stinking flight) or that I was embarking on another bucket of bolts that could apparently come apart at any moment while streaking across the sky to make it back to my family.

The way my heart plummeted as soon as the captain’s voice permeated the oppressive heat of the plane was beyond disturbing. And his words more so. Here we go again. I was not going to get home any time soon. He tried to be as positive as possible but we were having a problem with a signal from one of the doors and a blah, blah, blah. We have to wait for maintenance to show up and fix the issue. Then we have to wait for the sign-off that all is well and then we will file our paperwork and then… Fuck.

It really didn’t cross my mind to worry about the actual safety of the plane in that moment because I was too caught up in getting home (instead of actually possibly dying on my way home), and I was definitely at a fiery crossroads of taking the high road by sighing and box breathing into the new situation, or losing my shit at the next flight attendant that put a wide smile near my face and told me that we would be taking off soon. Sure, babe. You’re preaching the bs to the master of shitty air travel stories.

Consider me suitably impressed when the plane actually started taxiing within 20 minutes. I was ecstatic, because…home. It might have slipped into my mind at this moment that I was now going to be in the air in a contraption that just had to have three mechanics stomp through the aisle to get to the back of the plane–but, again, home. My seatmate near the window gave a contented sigh and leaned his head against the window to watch us make our way to the take-off runway, and I contented myself with the knowledge that if he could lean into the situation and not freak out, then I could too. In fact, I was so chill that I pulled out my downloaded Bridgerton fanfics (had to get that shameless plug in) and started reading before we left the ground. 

As we stopped near the runway to wait to take our turn to fight gravity, I realized (through the romance-addled brain that was already knee deep in regency tinted sexy shenanigans) that we hadn’t moved for quite some time. I was a fast reader but even I wouldn’t be already to chapter six before we even got through our safety speech and off the ground and into the air. My heart started to stutter. This was NOT going to be good.

The previously (somewhat) contented man to the left of me started to wiggle a bit in his seat, as if he was also coming to the conclusion that we might not be so out of the woods as we thought. The woman on my other side pushed her nose further into her book and refused to acknowledge anything. I honestly don’t know if she found the situation amiss or not. It was probably likely though, as pretty much five rows of travelers in front or back of us were starting to shift around and mumbling between themselves and she couldn’t make herself ignore us THAT much.

And then, of course, the frustrated voice of the captain came over the dreaded speaker to let us know that there was another problem with the plane and that we were going to have to go back to the gate. Sorry, sorry, blah, blah, blah, should only take us a few more minutes… Sure, Jan. I huffed into my (quickly sweating chest) and bitched to myself a bit louder than before. A general discontented hum began to surface and I began to realize that a large portion of people on the plane were going to be late for their connections. Yeah, that sucked. At least I knew that I was just going to my nice soft bed in my nice sturdy house, while they were dealing with the potential ruination of plans that might have been months in the making. I really didn’t have anything to bitch about. 

We made it back to the gate and I prepared myself to grab my backpack and trudge back through the plane and into the airport. But, we just sat there. For five minutes we all just kind of looked at each other, trying to figure out what was going to happen next. It was like we were all holding our breath. It occurred to me that the flight attendants hadn’t even unbuckled themselves yet. That was…odd. And again, the captain’s voice came through the (quickly becoming hated) speaker to tell us that the maintenance crew was going to come back on to the plane again to deal with our new issue. We were to sit still and be good little travelers. Again, simmering anger for the delay (and not the idea that maybe the plane we were sitting on maybe wasn’t up to par to be able to get us to our destinations safely). 

Flight attendants finally started moving around the cabin (amongst the echo of seatbelts being unlocked and tray tables being pulled down) to do whatever it was that flight attendants did when their work schedule had been changed. I squirmed in my seat and sighed (loudly) in my discontent. That would show them. I leaned more into my downloaded stories and tried not to dwell on the pain that was starting to form in my right hip and continued my special breathing. It was all copacetic. It was. IT WAS! 

And then (wouldn’t you know it) a flipping flight attendant’s voice came crackling back out of the flipping speaker to let us know that we were not going to have any air conditioning while the plane was at the gate, so could we please, please, please refrain from moving, speaking, or breathing (okay, she didn’t say to not breathe, but you could definitely hear her thinking it). For real. Of course, the big metallic phallus that we were ensconced in started to immediately feel oppressive and thick with heat. What a disaster. I knew that we were not long for the plane. I put my phone away and waited for the next instructions.

I didn’t have to wait long, because after ten minutes the captain’s very frustrated voice spilled out of the speaker to let us know that we were all going to have to de-plane because it was just too hot for hundreds of people to suck on each other’s carbon dioxide for however long we were forced to stay in the plane. A loud groan rolled forth and the rest of the seatbelts began to be unbuckled. I grabbed my backpack and waited (patiently, I might add) to be freed from my prison. 

As we all dragged our carry-on items (we couldn’t leave anything inside the plane) it became very apparent that the flight staff was every bit put out as the rest of us. I don’t know why that made me feel better, but it did. We thanked them on the way out (I have no idea why) and flooded back into the fray of the airport where we were forced upon the group of travelers that were waiting for the plane that was supposed to pick them up after we left. I quickly concluded that there was no way that I would find a chair and dropped my backpack to the ground to use as a pillow. I didn’t give a shit about what variants of sick I might pick up from the well-worn carpet of the airport because I was finally putting my body into a “not sitting up straight between two strangers” configuration that was just starting to make my hip feel better. 

I could hear other people from my flight becoming extremely frustrated with the idea that they were going to miss their connections. What, hours before, had been a sizeable four hour layover was slipping through their fingers by the second. Calls were made and plans modified in the hope that we would be leaving soon. Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha! And, as if the continual updates from the captain inside the plane hadn’t been enough, we now had to strain to hear the quiet words of a gate attendant trying to keep us updated (and calm) over a much too underpowered speaker in a space that now had twice the amount of humans (and twice the noise) as was expected. I had to get up from my little airport nest each time she talked just so I could be kept in the loop because I couldn’t hear her otherwise. It turned out not to be too important though, because it was going to be at least 30 minutes before we would be reloaded onto the plane. I snuggled down deeper into the floor.

I think you can guess that what came next was probably of no surprise. No less than five announcements later (and an additional wait of 60 minutes) we were going to be let back on the plane. Until the sixth announcement, that is, where they added on another ten minutes just to piss us off further. But I realized that I couldn’t stay too angry because they were actually going to let us reboard and go forth into the wild blue yonder. At least, until the next thing decided to break from the plane. We boarded in the order of our designated groups again and put all of our luggage away, again, and managed to shave off about ten minutes from our previous record. The plane was still unbearably hot, but that was suddenly of no consequence. We just wanted to get the hell out of there.

As I snuggled back into my seat and contemplated taking a little nap through our take-off the captain’s voice came over the speaker once more. (My eyes drifted shut.) Thanks for the patience, blah, blah, blah. We understand your frustration, blah, blah, blah. We want to get you to your destination as soon as possible, blahbeddy, blah, blah.  We just need to wait to get someone to sign off on this paperwork and we’ll be on our way. (My eyes popped open.) 

Grrrrrrrrr!

©DRB 2024

Photo by Daniel McCullough on Unsplash