The first leg of travel yesterday required some fellow bloggers to drive us to the airport on their own way home. That was smooth as silk. Nice weather. Pleasant conversation mixed in with closed eyes (not the driver's) and little traffic. Smooth.
We were dropped at LaGuardia ahead of schedule and experienced a very short, just two parties, but also slow line at check in. We found our gate and left on time. It's all good. It should be said that on the way to the Northeast, we flew through O'Hare with zero delay. In the winter. This was an area of concern but all was smooth.)
When we got to the Big D, we arrived at gate C21. We had been told our next flight was at C36. Farther than I want to walk? Yes. Insurmountable? No. We trekked down to C36 only to see that we had been rerouted to C8. Insert a medium and everforth increasing sigh.
To get to C8 you need to take the Inter Terminal Train(ITT) as the section of terminal we were in began with C21. We find the train around the corner. It's still all good at this point.
As we arrive at gate C8, we hear the announcement and the comedy begins. We have now been delayed about half an hour, a good thing because the announcement routes us back to gate C29 via ITT. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee...
We arrive at gate C29, and the monitor at the gate says we are to go to D15. I am not exaggeratin her for a second. Not even a teeny stretch of my imagination. The string of monitors showing departures still says C29. What to do?
There was an airport kiosk stafed by the Airport Ambassadors, retired volunteers. Sandy was most helpful (and I am betting a snarky older wiser lesbian with her Indiana Jones dykish hat on and maybe a qat somewhere on her person) and called the automated airport system which confirmed D15. At this point hear the clearly audible sigh and color eb and I a little resigned that we are getting home l.a.t.e. "Get over it," said Sandy, "it's good for you!"
Off we went to D15. The silver lining was that there was to be a further short delay and eb got to sip a lovely Malbec while we crunched on some bagel chips(not from Trader Joe's) and pine nut hummus. The international terminal (Why D in the Big D, of course) has all the good restaurants.
Once we arrived back in H-town, a mere 42 minutes after take off, it was again smooth sailing.
Good friends? Way awesome.
Tankful of travel karma? Priceless.