Leaving Oklahoma: Less-Than-OK...

Now that I've been home for a week and a few days, I'm finally writing a post on the last day of the tour in Tulsa, OK!

En route to Tulsa, we stumbled across an amazing surprise in Oklahoma City: Cheever's Cafe.  [I'll be adding it to the "of Food" page very shortly!]  Definitely one of the best salads I've ever had (though my favorite is the spinach, apple, & pecan salad at La Grande Orange in Phoenix).  

Chicken, raspberries, apples, pecans, mixed greens.  Yes, please.

It's always so nice to just randomly find some amazing place to eat, especially during the end-of-tour push!

But let's cut to the good stuff: my trip home.  Somehow, I always manage to either have wonderfully smooth travel, or just crazy travel where it seems that nothing goes my way.  Last Sunday's trip, while by no means the worst travel experience, leans toward the latter...

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After realizing I have left my laptop charger in the hotel room the previous morning in Plano (...whoops), I grab the shuttle to the airport. [This is, coincidentally, one of the main reasons I didn't update my blog sooner...]

I enjoy a leisurely afternoon at the airport, which is relatively uneventful except for a nosebleed (the byproduct of a cold).  My friend, Molly, texts me to ask when I will arrive home, and I explain that I am at the airport in Tulsa.  Everyone else has left and I am, accordingly, all by myself.  Both jokingly and seriously, she then suggests I write a poem to capture the experience so I can share it with her when I get back to AZ.  Challenge accepted!  I now submit to you, entirely facetiously, said poem:

--Alone in Tulsa--

Gate 56.

Kleenex in my nose (from an earlier nosebleed).

Nobody by my side.

Empty grande latte.

Blank postcards waiting to be sent.

Brain filled with stories to share.

Kindle.  Blackberry.  iPad.  Laptop.

Others use technology.

I'm using a BIC #2 with 0.5 mm lead.

I'm flying United.

I wish it was Southwest.

They're better.

Maybe I should get my shoes shined?

My kicks aren't leather.

But, they are dull.

Maybe someone famous will walk by?

Oh...wait.

I'm in Oklahoma.

Yet, I've not seen any wind come sweepin' down the plain.

Or any surreys (with the fringe on top).

Why isn't anyone singing?

I should probably stick to my day job, eh?

After we board the plane and begin to taxi, the captain comes over the speaker: "Attention passengers, we've been informed of some serious weather in Denver.  There are only two open runways, and we've been asked to hold our departure.  Because of delays all day, we're at the bottom of the list when it comes to arrivals.  We should have a better idea of the situation in...about 45 minutes."

So the plane pulls over.  No big deal: it's not the first time I have sat delayed on the runway.

When my United flight arrives in Denver, it's 6:35 PM, which is 15 minutes after my connecting flight to Phoenix was supposed to have taken off.  Hoping that my flight to Phoenix has also been delayed from weather, I sprint to the gate, which is the final gate at the opposite end of Denver's never-ending terminals.  Always the optimist, I remind myself what a great exercise opportunity this is...because when would I ever willingly run with 25 lbs. of baggage?  About halfway there, I decide to check a board to see if my flight has actually been delayed.  Nope--it's gone.  (In hindsight, I'm not really sure why I didn't stop to check this before I sprinted halfway there...)

I finally finish moseying to the gate and discover there's nobody there.  I also find that the only other U.S. Airways gate is un-staffed.  And, the final blow: there is no U.S. Airways customer service desk.

I head to United, get some depressing advice from a very nice agent ("I'm sorry, I have no idea where U.S. Air staff are right now...you'll just have to wait until they show up"), call my mom, and grab a wrap from a restaurant in the middle of the terminal.  I then walk back down the terminal to the gate, and nearly arrive when my nose begins to bleed once more.  

After spending 20 minutes in the bathroom waiting for nosebleed #2 to end, I finally settle in across from the U.S. Airways gate and start to eat. For some delusional reason I assumed that this specific wrap would taste better than the last time I had ordered it.  It didn't.  Personal mental note: don't order this wrap in the future.

My mom calls at 7:30.  "Taylor, I just got an automated call from U.S. Airways here on the home phone."  Wait...what?  "You've been re-booked for a United flight leaving at 9:52."  I check the board for said flight.  Want to guess where the gate is?

...correct!  The opposite end of the terminal.  Ten minutes later, I arrive at my gate, eventually get my boarding pass (from an agent who conveniently seems to leave the desk whenever I approach it), call my mom, and settle in with a book.  About 8:40, she calls back.  "Did you check to make sure your bag has been rechecked?"  Moms know best.  

I go back to the evasive agent and happen to catch him.  He looks at the number on my bag tag and starts typing.  Clack clack clack.  He squints.  Clack clack.  He squints harder, checks the number, and tries once more.  Clack clack clack.  Something is wrong.  Clack.  Clack clack.  "There's no way for me to see where your bags are.  You need to go to customer service.  It's around the corner and down the stairs."  

I get to the customer service desk and assume my position behind the 30ish people in line.  It's 8:50.  By 9:10, I've moved 10 feet, give or take a yard.  By 9:20, I've moved 5 more feet.  Lost cause.  I head back up the stairs to my gate with no idea whether or not my bags were rechecked.  But as I am supposed to have already arrived in Phoenix, I don't really care; I just want to get home.

Naturally, my gate has changed.  I head back down the stairs, past the customer service desk, and arrive in time for boarding.

As soon as I take my seat, my nose begins to bleed...again.  I quickly pinch my nose and head to the back.  The flight attendant, who is standing in front of the bathroom door and texting on his cell-phone, looks up expectantly.  "My nose is bleeding, can I please use the bathroom?"  He takes a moment to consider what I've said, is clearly annoyed by my request, and steps aside.  I lock the door, stockpile tissues for nosebleed #3, and instantly begin to over-analyze the situation.  What if I can't get my nose to stop bleeding?  Can planes even take off if a passenger is bleeding?!  What if they ask me to step off the plane?!?

"Good evening passengers, if you could please take your seats as quickly as possible, we'll get out of here as soon as we can!"  I open the door with my free hand and look down the aisle to see the plane nearly fully-seated.  The flight attendant returns, cocks his head down as to look over the rim of glasses he's not wearing, and says, sardonically, "Do you think you'll live?"

...really?!  The bleeding finally stops, and I stuff some tissue up my nose as a prophylactic measure.  

I return to my seat, whereupon my neighbor hands me a white cloth.  "Are you okay?  I found this handkerchief in my bag and it's brand new.  I promise I haven't used it!  You can have it, in case your nose starts to bleed again."  

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Fortunately, my bag had been rechecked and was at the terminal in Phoenix when I arrived.  But more importantly, the kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me.  Little did this man know how great it was to finally catch a break after hours of nosebleeds and gate changes! 

Kindness makes the world go around.

...and, to think he showed kindness to someone who looked like this for the entire flight!