Jet Unset

 I had a bizarre and exhausting travel experience a few weekends ago:

I flew back to Austin for spring break, my fourth trip in six years and first time in Texas since Leap Day 2020. (That ended up being my sole vacation in that headache of a year.) I was supposed to fly back in the early hours of Saturday, April 1st. Not long before going to a Round Rock Express game that Friday night, I was informed my nonstop flight to Chicago was cancelled. There was a string of nasty storms and tornado warnings in northern Illinois. I was grateful that my old pal Brandon and his wife were letting me hang out at the house until my flight would be rescheduled. I tried calling United but they were clearly slammed with calls; as it turned out, they wiped out 36 straight hours of flights to O'Hare because of the inclement weather. After two hours with an chatbot, I received a refund for my initial flight. 

I had plans for Saturday, so my instinct was to find the next available flight back home. I didn't consider Amtrak or anything else. My best option was via American and Southwest; Bergstrom to Dallas-Fort Worth to Oklahoma City to Chicago, and land home after 6 PM. I arrived at Bergstrom at 10:15 for a noon flight, and the shuttle landed at DFW without issue. Then the plot thickened. My second flight had a one hour delay for maintenance; an attendant for American noticed the four minute gap between my OKC flight and when I fly from OKC to Chicago (in different terminals) so I ended up getting switched to a layover in Springfield, MO *then* Chicago free of charge. The Springfield flight was supposed to board after 10 PM; I didn't get on the plane until 11:15. That particular layover lasted 10 1/2 hours. 

In the meantime, I endured the longest layover I've ever had. I meandered around DFW, eating lunch at a Pappadeaux, a snack at a frozen yogurt stand, and a late dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings. I also took advantage of American's Minute Suites, where I took an uncomfortable two-hour snooze on a cushioned bench. The mini motel room experience was sufficient, but not worth the $51 an hour. After I landed at Springfield-Branson, I had to find a bench to take a second over-glorified nap. I was surreal laying down in the arrivals and baggage area of an empty airport, especially in a smaller airport in an unfamiliar city (one terminal, eight gates, zero Starbucks). Just after 5 AM on Sunday morning, I finally boarded my connecting flight to O'Hare. I landed at 7 AM, I returned to my apartment around 8, and I took a four hour nap. In all, I spent 21 hours in aviation limbo. 

April fools, indeed.

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