kelric
Feline Member
- Joined
- Sep 8, 2007
- Messages
- 2,169
- MBTI Type
- INtP
A couple of weeks ago I went out of town to visit a friend, and on the way home I was routed through the LaBrea Tar Pit of airports... Chicago O'Hare. I don't fly too often, but when I wind up going through O'Hare it seems that more often than not I get stuck. This time... I got stuck. Only for a few hours, fortunately, and I made it home at a decent hour anyway.
It did remind me of a New Years Day trip home I made a number of years ago. I stupidly accepted a re-route through Chicago instead of Denver, and arrived in Chicago at 10pm about 30 minutes ahead of yes, a blizzard. Connection? Not a chance. Three complete strangers asked me if I wanted to chip in on a rental car to drive the 250-300 miles, in a blizzard, in the dark, to St. Louis (what were they thinking?). I declined.
The place was totally deserted, and I was too poor/cheap to try to get a hotel, so I stayed in the airport for something like 36 hours. It was totally deserted - and if you've been there, you know that place is *always* crowded. Not at 3am in the middle of a blizzard. I could (and did) look both ways up and down the concourse without seeing a single soul. There's only so much walking up and down the terminals and watching bulldozers push snow around a guy can take, so I indulged myself in the one amusing thing I'd always wanted to do in an airport...
I went down to this tunnel and... that's right... sprinted up and down the people-conveyor belts. Childish? Yes. Immature? Yes. The result of no sleep, little food, and crushing boredom? Absolutely. But one whole ton of fun. It felt like flying. And I'd do it again.
It did remind me of a New Years Day trip home I made a number of years ago. I stupidly accepted a re-route through Chicago instead of Denver, and arrived in Chicago at 10pm about 30 minutes ahead of yes, a blizzard. Connection? Not a chance. Three complete strangers asked me if I wanted to chip in on a rental car to drive the 250-300 miles, in a blizzard, in the dark, to St. Louis (what were they thinking?). I declined.
The place was totally deserted, and I was too poor/cheap to try to get a hotel, so I stayed in the airport for something like 36 hours. It was totally deserted - and if you've been there, you know that place is *always* crowded. Not at 3am in the middle of a blizzard. I could (and did) look both ways up and down the concourse without seeing a single soul. There's only so much walking up and down the terminals and watching bulldozers push snow around a guy can take, so I indulged myself in the one amusing thing I'd always wanted to do in an airport...
I went down to this tunnel and... that's right... sprinted up and down the people-conveyor belts. Childish? Yes. Immature? Yes. The result of no sleep, little food, and crushing boredom? Absolutely. But one whole ton of fun. It felt like flying. And I'd do it again.
