I'm Sorry, Did We Say, "Philadelphia"??? We Meant Albuquerque...

I can't believe that we haven't even made it to France yet in this blogging account.

Inside the Albuquerque airport, this is what the scene turned into. I'm the one on the right holding the "Barbarism or Socialism" sign. You can't really see me, but I'm not wearing any pants. I decided it would be more dramatic that way. And it was. And much cooler as well. Cool as in cold, not as in great.

So, obviously we were thankful to be on the ground. And still alive. The whole incident still seemed very surreal. The burnt electrical smell was all over our end of the airport, which just added to the dream-like state of the whole matter.

We sat in wonder of how quickly Philadelphia had turned into Albuquerque. And I began listening. With a bit of humor (if I have to tell you). And I listened as everyone's "big fish" story unfolded and grew.

At one point, a fellow passenger was sitting across from us and I overheard him talking with another passenger. He asked, "WERE YOU ON THE PLANE THAT DID THIS??" And motioned a "nose dive" with his hand.

I burst out laughing and said, "We did NOT do this..." and repeated his hand motion.

He didn't skip a beat, despite my cackling. He just looked at me and said, "It makes for a better story though, doesn't it?"

I reluctantly agreed. He had a point.

I then listened to peoples dramatic phone calls to their loved ones, "AND THEN, THE ENGINE BLEW UP AND...THE PLANE JOLTED AND THE FLIGHT ATTENDANTS WENT FLYING WITH THEIR SODAS AND HIT PEOPLE IN THE HEADS...AND SODA EXPLODED ALL OVER THE PLANE...AND THAT RUINED EVERYONE'S HAIR...AND THEN, PEOPLE STARTED BARFING AND SCREAMING AND CRYING...AND PREGNANT MOTHERS WENT INTO LABOR AND THERE WAS NO ONE THERE TO DELIVER ALL THE BABIES AND SO WE HAD TO GET HOT WATER AND BLANKETS...BUT WE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HOT WATER AND BLANKETS, SO WE STARTED BARFING AND SCREAMING AND CRYING AND...WE ALMOST DIED."

When they cancelled our flight, which I don't think that anyone was really surprised, as if any of us really wanted to get back on that plane, they had us stand in various lines, that eventually led to one big overall line that literally lasted hours. The little Albuquerque airport was completely overwhelmed.

The ticket agents had immense patience. And security was close-by in case any passengers completely freaked and rushed the ticket counter to steal as many name labels for their bags that they wished.

After I spent two hours on the cell phone with Javier from Customer Relations and he was going to put us on a flight back to LA, then put us on another flight to Paris, via Air France, Rhoda at the ticket counter got down and dirty and took care of us. She was awesome.

They were diverting a rather empty flight from Las Vegas to pick us up in Albuquerque to take us to Philly. But, they told us that the flight was EMPTY and that there was room for all of us. It wasn't "empty". And Will and I were literally the last two on. Others were left standing at the gate with not a seat to spare.

Everyone was perplexed. I asked the flight attendant, "I thought that they said this flight was empty? Did we reproduce in the last 12 hours? Did all of us have babies?" (Was that person's phone call true? Did everyone start having babies before we landed and we just didn't know about it?)

It turns out that yes, we reproduced in a matter of 12 hours, because there was nothing else to do but to stand in line in Albuquerque, so we all started procreating and having babies and the whole flight filled up. I wish that we had pictures.

So, the flight was full to the brim. And we began to taxi away from gate A - 4, and rolled right on over to gate A - 10. That was the duration of our flight. We had to de-plane, because some device that gives the pilots blow-jobs up in the cockpit broke.

Two planes - two mechanical issues. (In 12 more hours, we'd be on our 3rd plane with mechanical issues.)

As we sat in the airport, we all began getting to know each other.

Kate from Philadelphia had just gotten engaged a week earlier. She and I looked through her bridal magazine and admired or commiserated on the gowns that were featured. We laughed and smiled at some of the ads, and some of the looks on the models faces that appeared as though they were getting ready to drop a load in their frilly shorts, and at some of the dresses that would make any bride look like a pile of meringue.

***Diverting post, please fasten your seat belts...***

Sidenote: Okay, I'm sorry...I had to post this pic. I was looking for pictures of big arrangements of meringue to represent an over-zealous bride and found this under "lemon meringue". A dude on a clear plastic tarp covered stage in a jock strap, waving his arms quicker than a snapshot can catch...I can't imagine what the hell is going on...Part of me wishes I knew, part of me is glad that I don't.

***Back to our original post-plan; interacting with fellow passengers.***

Some folks from Atlantic City were desperately trying to get back because they had been on vacation and the woman's mother had died. The poor thing could only quit crying for a few minutes at a time. I felt terribly bad for her and teared up myself when she was relaying the story to us. I offered to French kiss her, but she really wasn't in the mood. So, Will and I took turns making out with her husband. It was the least we could do.

Another woman was completing her last leg of a round-the-world trip. She's the one who barfed on herself. She was hot and I would've offered to French kiss her, but you know...the whole barf scene was still in my recent memory, so I was a little reluctant.

We all sat in the airport, talking, sharing granola bars, peanuts, toothpaste and stories. We made the most of it and connected with one another. When in normal circumstances we never would have been talking with each other, we were now. And there was something truly beautiful about it.

Seldom during our frantic days do we really have time to sit and talk with what we perceive to be total strangers. But once we started talking, I was reminded that they're not really that different from me. We all basically want the same things, laugh the same way and are scared of the same circumstances. The demographics never really matter. Not really. We think that they do, but they don't.

And when the woman who barfed on herself turned and asked me where we were going, I said, "Paris..."

And her eyes widened and she replied, "Shit, you guys aren't even close."

And even though she was right and we were supposed to be half way over the Atlantic Ocean at that point. I knew that we were right where we were supposed to be. And I was cool with that. Cool as in great, not as in cold.