seconds, to be exact. I had a brilliant plan - I would work during the
night, getting a juicy 4 hour coding session in - and then get on an
airplane and sleep my way to CA.
Pretty clever, eh?
Things started off quite well. I got to the plane, found my first class
seat, blogged it and prepared to get some shut-eye. We left a bit late
from DC, but whatever, I had plenty of time at my layover, right? Sure.
I then slipped into a coma.
In my dreams I heard the flight attendants make announcements about
gates and stuff. Whataever, I was in a better place and couldn't be
bothered.
I awoke, and was in a post sleep haze. I didn't quite know what city I
was in, where I was flying to, or pretty much anything (though I could
still have explained to you why swallowing exceptions is evil. I was out
of it, but not *that* out of it).
Then the flight attendant made an announcement: "remember, if you're
flying to Los Angeles your gate has been changed and your plane is
leaving in 20 seconds." Or something like that.
At this point, it occured to me that a haze was not the ideal state to
be in. I thought I was flying to LA. Yeah, right, that's me. Did I
know my flight number? Did I catch what gate it had been changed to? Was
I aware of anything? No, No and No.
Text messages started flooding in from Shira. "[Info about timing]...
not looking good" - huh? "745" - what did that mean" and my favorite:
"911 mode, you will miss it" -- miss what? Huh?
I knew a couple things. One, I needed to get off the plane I was on.
Two, I needed to figure out where I was going. So I sprinted, I'm sure
in a quasi-terrorist style, out of the plane and stopped at the first
flight info board I could find. While it occured to me that my flight
was clearly leaving in seconds, I forced myself to calmly scan the board
and figure out the gate. Then I double checked the gate. Then I ran
like hell.
I made it. Whew.
Got on board, closed my eyes, woke up some period of time later. Again,
in a haze. Breakfast appeared to be getting served. What did I want to
drink? All I could get out was "OJ" and "vegetarian" - and sure enough,
orange juice and yogurt and fruit showed up.
I still haven't figured out how many more hours I have on this flight or
even which direction the bathroom is. But, at least I can't miss a
flight because of the lack of this information.
Next time, Shira's going to send me as an un-accompanied minor. I'll
need some kind airport attendant to hold my hand as I'm lead from gate
to gate. But on a good note, I might get to ride in one of those
overgrown golf carts they use to transport folks in.
I'm going back to sleep, and when I wake up, I want this all to have
been a very strange dream.
--Ben
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