first world shitshows

phone rings at 7:01pm. shit. 

werk instead of chillaxia again.  

another phukking redeye.  how is it that i seem to be a magnet for these things?  and my (junior) buddies from ground school never get called at all?

empty bird on a ferry flight with a complement of 3 flight attendants deadheading. one brunette, one redhead, and one dude.  all three check me out. don't really blame them, my ass does look good in these pants.

full-speed big-chested loud-mouthed friendly captain.  flew in alaska too.  we know some of the same people.  my existence is immediately justified and he likes me despite the fact that i tell him i'm new in the plane. you can always trust a fellow bush guy when it comes to stick and rudder skills.  would have weeded himself out of the gene pool by now if he couldn't fly. i smoothly touch down at 3 am in the mouse house and the fury begins.  

taxiing to the gate, there are no ground crew waiting for us at 4:30 in the morning. we hold 50 feet short for the next 40 minutes until the first mice begin to stir, but unfortunately among them is not a single person qualified in driving a jet bridge. another half hour, and finally a supervisor arrives.  wiggles a few knobs, pushes a few buttons.  the thing shakes, goes up, comes down, lurches forward, jerks to a stop.  after a few more minutes of random chance and ouija boards, the accordion rain cover touches our skin. space-docking complete. we roll off, the captain and i, with harem in tow.

special van for this extra flight nowhere to be seen.  capt. gets on the horn and irons it out while i herd cats towards pickup location.  finally get in 2 separate cars, myself and captain in one, f/a s in the other. they are in the lead vehicle.  this proves to be a fatal mistake.  

first dick-tickle whisper of impending disaster comes 2 minutes into ride when lead vehicle suddenly flips a 180 while exiting the airport.  our driver tells us in broken english that he is only following and has no idea where to go. my scrotal hairs are twitching in that instinctive fight-or-flight early warning. we have no idea the real fun is about to begin.

dropped at holiday inn. cars whip away. polite, well-dressed, not-too-intelligent desk agent informs us there is no reservation for us, and no rooms available.  we sit in lobby for about 2 hours while capt and desk agent call various people trying to sort out what happened. finally a decision by the superpowers is reached that we are going to another hotel down the road.

shuttle comes and takes us. turns out it's not the one down the road either. we drive for the next hour in a bleary-eyed haze around orlando, to 4 different holiday inns. our crew schedulers only had 4 hours to hammer out arrangements for us, as we flung eastwards under the silent stars.  understandably, the book of faces distracted whoever was tasked with making that one all-important phone call, and now there's no room at the inn.  little baby jesus knows what i mean. 

finally, we find a place to crash, jet lagged as if we just flew halfway around the world instead of two time zones away. slide into bed at 6 am for a 3 pm show to fly to madison and back, where the local populous have recently suffered the crushing of a life-long dream. something about a sports team of one sort or another, not winning some game or the other, not really sure. 

as good luck would have it, my room is right across the hall from the ice and vending machines, as well as the elevator.  all three are apparently on duty all night tonight. i am reluctant to put in ear plugs, for fear that i'm so tired that i'll sleep through my alarm.  badger fans need to get home tomorrow (today), after all.

flight up north without issues.  one of the female chicago center controllers is difficult to understand, even though we both speak native english. what did she say? i ask the captain. between him and i, we take our best guess. she doesn't yell at us for our altitude/heading selections, so we must have been right.  flying by braille.

back down is another story. my leg of course. entire flaccid shaft of florida is covered with massive spring thunderstorms in the gathering dusk.  with the ease of a bush pilot sliding it in and out, we thread the needle and i handle all of ATC's late and shitty instructions with the flexibility and precision of a true stick-wiggler.  we touch down in the pouring rain and taxi in.  ground crew gives us the wrong gate, so we sit there and look like idiots for 5 minutes until they send another message. i put my tie back on and open the door to say goodbye. all of the nervous grandmothers, hot college sorostitutes, and little kids thank me for a great flight.

you're welcome.

it's 9pm. the worst is surely over?

fuck no.

get to hotel. déjà phukking vu. same thing, no rooms and no reservations. what a mindfuck!  this can't be happening again. but it is. 

capt and i both start furiously fingering our pocket supercomputers, calling anyone who will listen: crew scheduling, dispatch, local hotels, taxi unions, chief pilots, state senators, 1-900-GIRLS-NOW. 

eventually we strike (phool's) gold and are on our way to another place, 40 minutes away.  drive past 67 or 68 other perfectly good hotels on the way to BFE. i ask our driver to stay for a minute, just in case. roll our sexy roller bags into the lobby to find out that indeed we have no reservation! i look outside just as the car peels out.  

wait another hour and a half, it's now midnight and we've flown more than 9 of the last 24 hours and not had more than 4 hours sleep, all on the backside of the clock. and crew scheduling has just signed the captain and i up for an early morning ferry flight home.  luckily for the public at large, this will also be an empty repositioning flight. we get what sleep we can and then make some double-strength cowboy coffee. point the pointy end west. fly above everyone else in the day's turbulent flight levels so that we can go direct. denver greets us with a 36 knot direct crosswind.

i don't remember driving my truck home, but somehow i got there. something to think about for all you cheaptickets.com users.  wanna know why it's so cheap?  i invite you to pontificate on that the next time you're on an early morning or overnight flight.

thank god for autopilots and coffee.