I left Boston at 10:30 PM on Tuesday night after attending a Moth StorySLAM with friends. I arrived from around 12:30 AM and was in bed by 1:00 AM.
My alarm went off at 3:15 AM this morning. By 3:30 AM, I was on the road, heading for Bradley International Airport, where I would begin the three-leg journey to Victoria, Canada, to speak to business people and entrepreneurs on Thursday about storytelling, communication strategy, and branding.
When I arrived at the airport two hours before my flight, I received a text message indicating the flight was canceled thanks to the Crowd Strike fiasco.
I own stock in Crowd Strike. Now I’m doubly angry.
A Delta ticket agent explained to me that when their system went down, they lost their pilot and crew rosters and scheduling software. It’s being rebuilt now, which is causing delays and cancellations.
There was no other flight out of Bradley that would land me in Victora, Canada by the end of the day.
So Delta booked me on an 8:30 AM flight out of Boston and booked an Uber to drive me the two hours across Connecticut and Massachusetts to Logan Airport.
Less than six hours after leaving Boston, I was on my way back.
The driver who picked me up had never driven outside of Connecticut before and was nervous.
“Maybe I should just grab another Uber?” I suggested.
“No,” she said. “I can do this. I have God on my side.”
Then she turned on a radio station broadcasting religious music and took off.
When it started raining on the Mass Pike, my driver began to pray to God for help. She became a little weepy when the rain picked up, but a few minutes later, it was sunny again, and she relaxed.
“I’m never leaving Connecticut again,” she said. “And I’m running out of gas.”
I arrived at the airport with plenty of time but had to wait in an endless line to get a physical ticket since the Delta app was unable to process my flight change. While in line, a small child punched me in the groin while fist-pumping about flying on a plane for the first time.
It took me a few minutes to recover.
The parents were exceptionally apologetic.
Then two toddlers behind me began to scream. They screamed as if someone was roasting them alive over a campfire. A few minutes into the screaming, a Delta employee came over, took a knee, and in a firm but gentle voice said, “The pilot said he can hear you, and he wants you to stop to he can focus on getting the plane ready for you. Okay?” Then she held out a walkie-talkie and said, “Can you tell him that you’ll be quiet?”
The two children stopped screaming instantly. Each one spoke into the walkie-talkie, promising to be good. Then the Delta employee held the walkie-talkie to her ear, paused for a moment, and then said, “The pilot said thanks. He can’t wait to see you.”
As she stood up to walk away, I said, “That was ninja-level behavior management, miss.”
Most impressive, she didn’t check with the parents before speaking to the kids. She did her job without hesitation.
I’m writing this from 34,000 feet, somewhere over the Great Lakes on the way to Denver. A dog is sitting beside me in a crate, barking. Her name is Ginger. She is very cute. I also hate her.
I feel like I have already lived two days today.
Flying is never, ever fun.
I wonder what awaits me in Denver and beyond.
