The Missed Connection

Found this in my backup documents from a few months ago. Seems like it was well-written, and given the topic I assume I had ample time to craft it…


It felt like they took 45 minutes to board the airplane, but I finally got off my phone just as they pushed back, which was at 3:17 for a 3:40 departure. I thought it took a long time to board, but apparently it was disturbingly early. And yet we landed at 5:46, half an hour late.

A lot of things should have tipped me off that the plane landed late. They made an announcement urging the immediate and expedited passage of three people flying to colorado springs since they had to huff it across the whole Denver airport. When I negotiated my own exit, I made a beeline to my next gate, made sure everything was on time, and went off to find food. After all, I knew that I had an hour layover.

I stopped off at the bathroom, walked in a circle around the central rotunda, and unable to locate a proper sandwich (mayo AND mustard? Might as well set me on fire), I got a personal pizza and a bottled water, hoping that I could digest it because that’s the kind of trip I’d been having.

I leisurely walked back to my gate and found a spot among the crowd to sit down. But something seemed very off; the plane was moving backward. I guessed this was some kind of readjustment to align with the jetway, but dismissed that as the jetways themselves are adjustable. So I went to the front desk, and the flight to LA had disappeared from the boards. At this point I am more confused than I have ever been in recent memory. Where did my plane go? Did I miss a gate change? Confirmed this was the right gate, so time to ask: “Where’s the flight to LA?” “Gone. What seat were you?”

“Are you serious?” I grab my phone, and actually check the fucking time. It’s 6:17, seven minutes after my scheduled departure time. I thought I had an hour layover, and my plane is gone after 20 minutes of walking around the fucking airport? I checked my gchat and twitter post logs, since I know I was chatting right up until takeoff, and tweeting immediately after landing. This is when it actually dawned on me that I had missed my flight.

“Were you seat 15C or 11C? I gave them away when you didn’t show up.” “Yeah, I was 15C.” I didn’t even know my own seat number. I usually check that kind of thing while walking down the damn jetway. I guess I made some standby traveller’s night, but now I’m getting home at 1am.

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