We’ve Interrupted This Broadcast…

….To bring you an important announcemt.  So “The White Moth” is on hold just for one post, I’ll get the next part of the story up soon, but I had to blog about this;

Last night Julius and I went to an annual Christmas party of two friends of his- one of who happens to be my dentist.  They have a fantastic home, done in a very grand and very elegant style…heck they even have TWO full sized grand pianos.  Needless to say, that’s enough to make me drool, but the food is fantastic and the liquor is great too.  We pulled up to the vallet around 9:30, went in, said our hello’s to the hosts and mingled.

I went up to the bar and ordered my usual red wine, completely forgetting that I probably should stay sober for the sake of my morning flight.  I’m probably one of the youngest people here, but that doesn’t bother me, the atmosphere is much more my taste than the usual parties we get invited to.

The bartender hands me my glass of red wine.

“Good Lord!”  I exclaim, Julius’ back turned, he looks at me.


“Do you see this?  It’s …it’s….I’m surprised there’s not a fish in here!”

In case you didn’t get that, the glass was HUGE….three more of those later, we’re home and I’m pretty drunk.  I have to be up in 4 hours in order to get to the airport.  I close my eyes for a moment, and the next thing I know, my alarm’s going off.  Ugh, I’m in a not so nice place inbetween drunk and hungover.  I debate how much I really need to go home for Christmas, wondering if my mother really would come down here and bring me up by the hair of my chin…I decide it’s best not to test her and get ready.  By the time I’m finished getting ready I think I feel better, then I snap at Julius for no reason and realize that, no, I don’t.

The drive to the airport was inconsequential, so I assumed that checking my bag would be as well.  The last time I came home for Christmas the airport was nearly empty, no such luck this time.  Lines to my left, lines to my right, lines right in my line of sight…oy, this is gonna be LONG.

Go to this line, no that line, no not that line, no come with me, no you can’t come with me, you go there, no don’t go there, go THERE.  That pretty much sums up my first 15 minutes at the airport.  Now I’m not exactly a novice at flying, I’ve racked up about 30k miles in flights this year, but when all of your lines are going out of the door of the airport, all the rules go out the window.

Ok, so I’m finally in line, everyone is in a sour mood and I very nearly decide to join them.  Then I realize, HEY, I’m headed home for Christmas, I get to see Yolanda’s House of Chintz and…well to be frank, my hangover lifted.  So I start humming Christmas carols.  People look at me, look away – feels like I’m in NYC already.  It’s 6:30am, my flight boards in 15 minutes.  At this rate I’ll just make it.

I give up humming and start actually singing Happy Holidays…it’s one of my favorites.  I look around, smiling like a fool, singing, hoping for a Hollywood turn of events where everyone around me starts singing along with me and we all have a jolly good time….yeah, so that didn’t happen.  Oh well, I was still cheerful and trying to make sure all of the service staff I came in contact with got some cheer from me.

Finally I check my bag, 20lbs under requirement and Continental no longer charges for the first bag if you have one of their debit or credit cards, YAY!  The security check is rather quick moving, which is shocking, you’d think (and hope) that people took more time to make sure that the flights would be secure than they do checking your ratty old luggage.

I’m finally close to pushing my things into the big radioactive box and stepping through the plastic metal dectector, when the line stops.  A woman with an autistic child is having an issue getting him to go through the detector, and you cannot go through WITH someone.  The kid is flipping out, all my cheer drains out of me as I mentally flip to the chapters I’ve read on autism, but before I can think any further we’re moving again.  I get through the dectector, but they stop all my bags to inspect them.  It never fails.  I look Arabic and clearly all individuals of Arabic decent are trouble…ugh, I tell ya.

Oh well, I’m through and back to singing Christmas Carols and…wait…what’s that?  There’s someone else singing!  And they’re singing LOUDLY!  There’s a stage!  Christmas Karaoke!  Chrismas Elves!  Oh My God!  There are people singing and being cheerful in the airport- they’re employees, but anyone can sing.  It turns out that this was a spontanious idea of some of the people who work at the airport in order to bring better spirits into the terminal.  It’s so exciting!

Ok enough cheer, I gotta motor or I’m gonna miss my flight!  I’m at gate C29, and there’s a sign pointing towards gate C29 through 39, great!  That should mean the 29 is the first one…nope, wrong.  C29 is the LAST one….gotta go gotta go gotta go right now!

Finally I get to the gate, and I have to sit down, my back is killing me from my shoes and backpack.  I roll my ticket around in my fingers, excited that I have an exit row seat with no seat in front of me.  I recall reading in a book about Continental that Gordon Bethune, former CEO, always made sure he was last on the plane because, heck, why bother being first, it just means you’re going to be sitting in that seat that much long.  I realize the sense of this and decide to get on last.

The plane is running late, but bording is going quickly.  I’m standing just inside the door, two passengers in front of me when I see the gate agent come down the jetway.  I offer to step back so she can speak to the Flight Attendants, but she declines.  She steps in behind me as we move forward in line, and I hear the following.

“Hey, what’s up?”  Asks the Attendant

“We got a guy who didn’t check in, so we’re oversold by one.”

My ears perk.

“I need to make an offer announcement.”

I turn around and smile, trying to beam some cheer.

“What kind of offer?”
“A first class ticket on the 12:30 flight…”

I almost say sold, but she goes on.

“And $300 to use for travel, anytime on Continental or Northwest.”

“SOLD!” I shout, right glad that I didn’t jump the gun on it and that I was last on the plane.

When I get back to the check in desk outside of the gate, I’m even happier that I took the offer; the person who forgot to check is looks to be a college student and he seems pretty distressed, afraid he wont’ get home.

“Hey, enjoy the flight, it’s an exit row seat.”

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy the holidays.”  I say.

So here I sit at Bush Intercontinental, waiting for my afternoon flight



  1. I couldn’t have made up what I just read! I am glad that you look at the glass as being 1/2 full and not 1/2 empty. You turned bah humbug into a good way to get through a stressful time at the airport. I guess your charma was with you and I always feel that “if its meant to be, it will happen”.
    Have a good flight and maybe you shouldn’t tan anymore because you are making people who fly the airways very nervous.
    You are right, if you didn’t show up in NJ I would have flown to big hat land and pulled you to Jersey.
    Can’t wait for you to arrive with a great smile and ready to decorate your tree…..Fa, la, la, la…Here comes Santa Claus!!!!!!
    The Lady of the House of Chintz awaits you!!!!!!!

  2. LOL!!! STOP TANNING!!! Boy she is sooo politically incorrect… and whats best is there is a spelling error in her note- its KARMA Ma not Charma. Boy this Christmas is just getting better and better.
    See good things come to those who let go of the oars!
    The best part is that you can use that $300 towards coming to NJ again!!!

  3. yeah…coming to new jersey again…that’s um…exactly what I was thinking?

  4. Hey, everyone is entitled to one spelling error!
    What is this, politically incorrect nonsense?
    I expect an answer from you Dana K.

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