Yesterday’s list of Events During Which Weddings Should Not Be Scheduled reminded me of one of my favorite stories from years ago…
My best friend’s brother, as big a college basketball fan as you will find, was apparently in a coma the day his fiancée mentioned a possible wedding date, which is why they were wed the Saturday of the Final Four. My mother and I were scheduled to attend (because my father and brother were away), and the plan called for me to fly home from college Friday morning and head to Long Island Saturday morning for the wedding. A ticket for a 6:30 a.m. flight on Friday was purchased on the now-defunct Braniff Airlines. It was stressed to me that I needed to make that flight, for Braniff only ran one flight per day from Columbus to Newark.
In a debate that continues to this day, I may or may not have gone out Thursday evening. The hour of my arrival home that evening was the source of hearty discussion for quite some time. I do know with absolute certainty that when I went to bed, I set the alarm for 4:30 a.m., with the intent of rolling out of bed, brushing my teeth, grabbing my pre-packed bag and heading to the airport.
So imagine my surprise when I opened my eyes, rolled over, and saw the clock read 6:34. This set into motion a wild frenzy. Once I stopped hyperventilating, I decided to first call information to get the airline's phone number, before calling my mother with a status update.
Other voice: “911, what’s the emergency?”
Me (after a lengthy pause): “Um, I missed my flight?”
Other voice: icy silence
Me: “I’m so sorry. I was calling information and I’m so out of sorts I accidentally called 911 instead of 411. I can’t believe I did that!”
Other voice: “Is that all, ma’am?”
Me: “Yes. Have a good day.”
I then called my mother, whose icy reaction rivaled that of the 911 operator. Fortunately, we were able to change my flight to Saturday morning. I was strongly advised that I should not go out Friday night. And I did not.
But speaking of flights, I have one early tomorrow morning. Hope you’ve enjoyed the lengthy blogs this week. It’s really been my way of preparing the WBTC readership for a 10-day absence. My parents have figured out that the only way to get me and my brother to completely stop working while on vacation is to leave the country. So that is what we’ll be doing. Given the last few weeks of work, I could really use a break, so I’m going to take advantage of it.
Don’t miss me too much.
My best friend’s brother, as big a college basketball fan as you will find, was apparently in a coma the day his fiancée mentioned a possible wedding date, which is why they were wed the Saturday of the Final Four. My mother and I were scheduled to attend (because my father and brother were away), and the plan called for me to fly home from college Friday morning and head to Long Island Saturday morning for the wedding. A ticket for a 6:30 a.m. flight on Friday was purchased on the now-defunct Braniff Airlines. It was stressed to me that I needed to make that flight, for Braniff only ran one flight per day from Columbus to Newark.
In a debate that continues to this day, I may or may not have gone out Thursday evening. The hour of my arrival home that evening was the source of hearty discussion for quite some time. I do know with absolute certainty that when I went to bed, I set the alarm for 4:30 a.m., with the intent of rolling out of bed, brushing my teeth, grabbing my pre-packed bag and heading to the airport.
So imagine my surprise when I opened my eyes, rolled over, and saw the clock read 6:34. This set into motion a wild frenzy. Once I stopped hyperventilating, I decided to first call information to get the airline's phone number, before calling my mother with a status update.
Other voice: “911, what’s the emergency?”
Me (after a lengthy pause): “Um, I missed my flight?”
Other voice: icy silence
Me: “I’m so sorry. I was calling information and I’m so out of sorts I accidentally called 911 instead of 411. I can’t believe I did that!”
Other voice: “Is that all, ma’am?”
Me: “Yes. Have a good day.”
I then called my mother, whose icy reaction rivaled that of the 911 operator. Fortunately, we were able to change my flight to Saturday morning. I was strongly advised that I should not go out Friday night. And I did not.
But speaking of flights, I have one early tomorrow morning. Hope you’ve enjoyed the lengthy blogs this week. It’s really been my way of preparing the WBTC readership for a 10-day absence. My parents have figured out that the only way to get me and my brother to completely stop working while on vacation is to leave the country. So that is what we’ll be doing. Given the last few weeks of work, I could really use a break, so I’m going to take advantage of it.
Don’t miss me too much.
posted by jersey girl @ 11:40 PM
1 Comments:
At 2/22/2007 3:06 AM,
Anonymous said…
Enjoyable tale about missing the flight. I missed a final exam in college once for the very same reason. On what foreign soil will Jersey Girl be raising hell?
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