detroit, delta, depression.

i've been doing this business travel thing for a while but never before has it happened to me.
friday night i got stranded.  officially, 100%, "no way out of this one" stranded.

i made it out of dulles on time, a first for me since starting there four weeks ago.  i got to detroit, quickly grabbing something to eat so i could make it to my gate on time, blasting through my forty-five minute layover like it was nothing.

then the first announcement came.  i got my meal voucher (which wouldn't get me a beer, fyi.  ask me how i know this) and sucked down half a bottle of water and half a bag of sour patch watermelon candies, courtesy of delta.  whatever gets you through the night.  now i'm savvy enough to know that these announcements typically come in threes.  the first two are to tell you you're delayed, and the third is to let you know you're cancelled.  we received two of these announcements and when i stepped on the plane three hours behind schedule, buckled my safety belt, and ensured my tray table was stowed for takeoff, i thought i was golden.  we waited.  and waited.  and waited.

and then the third announcement came.  "folks, we regret to inform you..."and everyone groans and ceases to listen.  we don't care.  we know what's about to come next.  we begrudgingly began to gather our belongings and wait for the jetbridge to come back so we could make our way off the airplane and into the line at the customer care center (which snaked around to the escalator to gates c2-c8, by the way).

by this time it's about 11:30pm.  i was supposed to be home two and a half hours ago, but i know there's no way in hell i'm getting home.  i waited in line and listened to the rumors:  "they're only giving people $100 in delta dollars."  "why are they doing that?"  "because there's no more hotel rooms."  "you've got to be kidding me."  wash, rinse, repeat, until i make it to the desk forty-five minutes later.  while i waited, i looked for a hotel room.  surely, there is a hotel to be found; you can't expect me to believe there are that many people who want to be in detroit for vacation.  i found a marriott not two miles away with a shuttle, sweet victory!!  i did a happy dance in the line because i knew those suckers would be sleeping on the floor, but i would be snuggled in my bed getting a good night's sleep.  i took my $200 delta dollars (being silver status has its benefits, apparently) and new boarding pass and set off for the shuttle.

fast forward twenty minutes.  i'm standing outside said marriott, tears trying not to freeze to my face in the twenty degree night, waiting for the shuttle to take me back.  stupid technology.  you can't book a room after midnight for the same day.  did you know that?  you do now, and i do too, thanks to the hard way.  there wasn't a room in a ten mile radius from the hotel and i didn't have thirty dollars for a cab fare to one further away.  i had never felt more hopeless in my life.

i got back to the airport, went through security again, and back down to where the blankets (all the pillows were gone by this point) and diet coke cans have been pillaged and did what i could to make the best of it.  i found a spot on the floor back in terminal a near the fountain.  it was right beside a small shrubbery, and the planter was the best way i could keep my back to "a wall". i shuddered as i pulled the blanket close to me, shivering, wondering how many other people had used this blanket and what diseases i was bound to contract.  then i remembered i was about to have to sleep on a floor.  in detroit.  god only knows what had been there before.

i slept in two hour stints, waking up for loud pilots, trash pickup near my head, and finally birds chirping as they nested in my shrubbery.  i saw at least a dozen people in the easy chairs around me.  it was like tent city for business travelers.

delta bought me some more candy and water and a bagel.  the personnel at the places i redeemed the vouchers looked at me like i was paying with food stamps.  i know i looked like the closest thing to a homeless person you'd see at an airport.  no luggage meant no toothbrush, no medication, no contact solution, and no clean underwear.  i didn't even feel human.

foruntately my flight went off on time, and i got back home by noon, a mere fifteen hours behind schedule.  at least there was some icing, on the cake, right?  happy saturday.

needless to say, i am not flying again for a very, very long time.