Not hustle as in making money illegally….but hustle as in HURRY THE EFF UP or you’re gonna miss your flight! This is how I got all the way down to Florida (5,400 km away) without missing a connection.
I wake up at 4am and drag my butt down to YVR. By the time I get there I have 1 hr 15 until my flight leaves for Houston. That should be plenty of time, except I forgot how busy the airport is in the morning. Stupid United! Why do they schedule all their flights at the same time? By the time I get through the first lineup to check in with the airline there are only TEN MINUTES until boarding and the dude at the counter is telling me I won’t make it. But what does he know? Nothing! Because he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. Time to HUSTLE. I power past everyone trapped in the cloud of confusion that surrounds bag checks and screening lines. I charm my way through all the security checkpoints. Thanks to that driven HUSTLE. I make the flight no prob.
I arrive in Houston and see that my next flight has been delayed by 30 mins. Cool, that will gimme time to eat. I open the menu and laugh at the first thing I see listed: Fried Cheese.
Awwwww America, don’t ever change.
After eating I double check the the flight board and see that my flight is now running TWO hours late…..ummmm that’s gonna make me miss my connection in Atlanta. So I ask for help at the first counter. They put me on a flight that leaves in an hour and bump me up to first class for good measure. Yea, ok. thanks. They tell me it’ll be tight to make the connection in only 45 mins. But I’m confident because it’s an airport – not a trip to freaking Mars. I’ll be my usual: fast, focused, and chalk full of HUSTLE.
Unfortunately, the flight is 30 mins late taking off which would only leave me 15 mins to make my connection. But we have a cocky captain who swears he can shave down our flight time. I don’t stress it. Why would I when there are free drinks in first class? After a couple double vodkas I also start to get cocky. I can make this, no worries. I pre-emptively apologize to the passengers seated around me for pushing them outta my way. We touch down and I have 20 mins to blow through 3 concourses and make my flight to Sarasota. By god I’ll make this. I’m not gonna make Mary drive up 100 miles to pick me up and discover I’d missed my flight. Once that door opens I go hard with the HUSTLE. Not only do I make it – I have time to change clothes (Vancouver to Florida is quite the transition and I know I’ll sweat to death after running in jeans and a cardi) I also have time to snap a pic proving Atlanta still has designated smoking areas in their airport. WTF?
My luggage is another matter. It’ll be a damn miracle if my suitcase also makes it to Florida. Thinking back, I realize it’s unlikely that it ever made it onto my first flight. I hope beyond hope that it does make it because otherwise I’ll have no shoes on this trip. I broke one shoe a little in Vancouver and a lot more in Houston. I guess fashionable metallic moccasins aren’t the best type of footwear for sprinting. Who knew?
After 12 hours of travel I roll into Sarasota only 3 mins behind schedule. DANKKKKKKK.
But as predicted my luggage is nowhere to be seen and won’t show up for another 15 hours. Good thing I’m just going to kick it at the beach. Who needs clothes for that anyway?