100,000 miles. A novel.
Yesterday I hoped for the best. I wasn’t betting on world peace, winning the lottery or the war to end. Instead I hoped for something a bit simpler in life. A great flight home after a pleasant trip to Portland was all I needed.
Yesterday was supposed to be great because it was the day that I accumulated 100,000 frequent-flier airline miles. Though I have netted over 130,000 miles in my account over the last four years I have never at once had 100,000 sitting there together. I was blessed with a great trip to Cabo San Lucas two years ago thanks to some of those miles but today was the day….100,000 miles sitting together tightly woven from numerous trips, layovers and experiences. However, there I sat on the faded blue carpet waiting by gate C-11 in the DFW airport. On my right stood a young thug dressed in baby blue sweats calling all his suppliers using every expletive in the book while on my left, wreaking of alcohol, sat a drunk guy muttering his every desire to each female that walked by us…..when he wasn’t burping out loud. Earlier he had asked an airport employee walking by if he could have another beer thinking she could hook him up. Instead he sat there denied of such privileges trying to strike up a conversation with me while I purposefully tried ignoring him. There I sat in the middle hoping 100,000 miles would get me somewhere else other than the faded blue carpet that lied beneath the alcohol fumes mingling in the air.
My flight from PDX to DFW was nothing near gold treatment. Honestly I was hoping for a free upgrade to first class thanks to my loyal four years of traveling with this particular airline. However, due to the flight being overbooked my reserved seat was moved from the middle of the plane to the second row from the back. While those in front of me had great views of the passing mountains and sunset in air I peered out to a jet engine. It was my now my job to carefully making sure no screws popped loose as we increased elevation.
As our plane backed from the gate an older disheveled lady asked the flight attendant, “Will the jets on the outside of the plane from our exact seats create a magnetic field?” The stewardess calmly searched for the right answer obviously not knowing it. Before having a chance to speak the old lady started demanding an answer saying that she had a pacemaker in her body and would face serious problems if she encountered this magnetic field. As our plane continued taxing down the runway the old lady finally got up and quickly stumbled into another seat a few rows up. Technically her move was illegal but desired by those around me. Many chuckles could be heard above the roar of the engine outside my window. With the absence of old lady I soon settled into my seat diving into my GQ magazine hoping to pass the time.
Landing in DFW with a few minutes to kill on layover I had hoped to grab a bite to eat and make a few phone calls. Because my engine-view seat sat right behind the flight attendants kitchenette I had no place to stow my orange carry-on bag but above in the storage compartment. As we taxied into the airport gates the captain informed us that we would be sitting for 15 minutes while a plane backed out of the gate we were approaching. I sat starting at the blank wall in front of me for 15 minutes. 20 minutes. At 35 minutes my eyes became heavy but perked back up when a frantic flight attendant came down the isle asking us to empty the storage compartment above my head.
My orange bag landed in my lap sooner than I anticipated, but I was thankful to have my cell phone in reaching distance now. As I turned it on to see the local time more bags began to fall out of the compartment above me. A second flight attendant ran back to us describing a certain backpack she was looking for, “the one with blue and silver!” While the bag was not easy to find buried under layers of coats and other bags an argument ensued between the two flight attendants. The argument was over the amount of time it was taking to find the particular blue and silver bag as it contained the medicine that old lady needed immediately due to our delay in getting off the plane. This helped pass a few moments of irritating time, but before all was said it done it had been one and a half hours that we sat on the tarmac waiting for an open gate.
As I exited the plane I ran to the nearest flight information screen in terminal-D to find my connection flight. It had been delayed to 9:08pm. Yet looking at my clock it was currently 9:10pm. Armed with both carry-on bags in hand I ran down terminal-D, up a flight of stairs, across three moving sidewalks, down another flight of stairs pass 17 gates in C-terminal only to find that my connection gate was headed to Denver and not OKC. With sweat dripping from my forehead I quickly approached the nearest flight information screen to see that my flight now was not on the screen anymore. It no longer existed. The next flight out was not for another hour and a half. I quickly scanned the terminal looking for any airline employee who could direct me to the right person or place so I could get home. She was there at gate C-14.
I approached C-14, still trying to catch my breath, and caught the first place in line. As I stepped up to the front counter an older business man quickly jumped in front of me and asked a question about his connection flight. This day was not getting any better. The employee asked if he had missed flight 792, which happened to be my flight. I spoke up only to find out that I had fully missed my flight. I was booked on standby for the next flight out. Unfortunately I was number 15 on the standby list.
Starving and tired I walked over to a fast food counter ordering something to resemble a dinner. I placed two phone calls as I carried my bagged food and two carry-on bags down to my new gate. I sat down for barely five minutes before the loudspeaker came on and announced that my fight had a gate change. I lost my appetite and threw my untouched food away before waking down to gate C-11.
The next hour did not pass quickly as I stressed over the situation sitting in my lap. Again, there I was sitting on the faded blue carpet hoping my miles could get me anywhere but there. Maybe 100,000 miles could bump me to the front of the standby list and place me in a first class seat.
Group by group passengers loaded the plane as I sat there in a blank stare hoping to hear my name called. Every name in the book was called it seemed except mine. Seat by seat the waiting area cleared making room for me and my two bags. It was going to be a long night. As I sat down I noticed to my left a US soldier dressed in uniform standing against a wall. He seemed to be waiting for the same flight I was. This made him standby passenger 14 or 16 as the entire area eventually cleared except for he and I. My name was eventually shouted out as I quickly looked up to make eye contact with the gate agent. A rush of relief came over me knowing that I could make it home tonight. I grabbed my bags and ran up to the counter looking back to see the soldier standing there alone. It hit me then. Though I wanted something simple to happen today I wasn’t asking for anything huge like the war to end. However, I could give up my chair and let this soldier head home. If anything maybe the war could end for his parents whom he was possibly heading to see. I spoke in a hushed tone with the gate agent telling her I wanted to give up my seat for this uniformed soldier. She ripped up my ticket and called this young man telling him a seat opened up for him. I walked to the nearest chair ready to collapse and settle in until I could be hooked up with a hotel voucher. After all maybe that’s what 100,000 miles could get me…a free hotel in a strange town. Plus, when am I ever afforded the luxury of having some alone time outside of my home? It was all beginning to sound nice to me.
Before I became too comfortable I heard my name once again. The gate agent asked me to follow her as she walked down the ramp to the jet. Thinking there was one more seat available I followed her directions. She stepped into the jet as I remained outside until she reappeared. Mumbling a seat number she told me to step on in and grab a seat. Relief, once again, came over me. I walked down the isle feeling hundreds of eyes on me. I glanced at first class before stepping back in coach and noticed the soldier sitting there in 3B. There it was….the first class seat I was hoping for all day. Instead I was welcomed to a window seat at the back of the plane. I settled in and looked out the window only to see darkness. Once again the jet engine sat outside my window accompanying me for the final flight home.
100,000 miles got me home last night, safe and sound.
Yesterday was supposed to be great because it was the day that I accumulated 100,000 frequent-flier airline miles. Though I have netted over 130,000 miles in my account over the last four years I have never at once had 100,000 sitting there together. I was blessed with a great trip to Cabo San Lucas two years ago thanks to some of those miles but today was the day….100,000 miles sitting together tightly woven from numerous trips, layovers and experiences. However, there I sat on the faded blue carpet waiting by gate C-11 in the DFW airport. On my right stood a young thug dressed in baby blue sweats calling all his suppliers using every expletive in the book while on my left, wreaking of alcohol, sat a drunk guy muttering his every desire to each female that walked by us…..when he wasn’t burping out loud. Earlier he had asked an airport employee walking by if he could have another beer thinking she could hook him up. Instead he sat there denied of such privileges trying to strike up a conversation with me while I purposefully tried ignoring him. There I sat in the middle hoping 100,000 miles would get me somewhere else other than the faded blue carpet that lied beneath the alcohol fumes mingling in the air.
My flight from PDX to DFW was nothing near gold treatment. Honestly I was hoping for a free upgrade to first class thanks to my loyal four years of traveling with this particular airline. However, due to the flight being overbooked my reserved seat was moved from the middle of the plane to the second row from the back. While those in front of me had great views of the passing mountains and sunset in air I peered out to a jet engine. It was my now my job to carefully making sure no screws popped loose as we increased elevation.
As our plane backed from the gate an older disheveled lady asked the flight attendant, “Will the jets on the outside of the plane from our exact seats create a magnetic field?” The stewardess calmly searched for the right answer obviously not knowing it. Before having a chance to speak the old lady started demanding an answer saying that she had a pacemaker in her body and would face serious problems if she encountered this magnetic field. As our plane continued taxing down the runway the old lady finally got up and quickly stumbled into another seat a few rows up. Technically her move was illegal but desired by those around me. Many chuckles could be heard above the roar of the engine outside my window. With the absence of old lady I soon settled into my seat diving into my GQ magazine hoping to pass the time.
Landing in DFW with a few minutes to kill on layover I had hoped to grab a bite to eat and make a few phone calls. Because my engine-view seat sat right behind the flight attendants kitchenette I had no place to stow my orange carry-on bag but above in the storage compartment. As we taxied into the airport gates the captain informed us that we would be sitting for 15 minutes while a plane backed out of the gate we were approaching. I sat starting at the blank wall in front of me for 15 minutes. 20 minutes. At 35 minutes my eyes became heavy but perked back up when a frantic flight attendant came down the isle asking us to empty the storage compartment above my head.
My orange bag landed in my lap sooner than I anticipated, but I was thankful to have my cell phone in reaching distance now. As I turned it on to see the local time more bags began to fall out of the compartment above me. A second flight attendant ran back to us describing a certain backpack she was looking for, “the one with blue and silver!” While the bag was not easy to find buried under layers of coats and other bags an argument ensued between the two flight attendants. The argument was over the amount of time it was taking to find the particular blue and silver bag as it contained the medicine that old lady needed immediately due to our delay in getting off the plane. This helped pass a few moments of irritating time, but before all was said it done it had been one and a half hours that we sat on the tarmac waiting for an open gate.
As I exited the plane I ran to the nearest flight information screen in terminal-D to find my connection flight. It had been delayed to 9:08pm. Yet looking at my clock it was currently 9:10pm. Armed with both carry-on bags in hand I ran down terminal-D, up a flight of stairs, across three moving sidewalks, down another flight of stairs pass 17 gates in C-terminal only to find that my connection gate was headed to Denver and not OKC. With sweat dripping from my forehead I quickly approached the nearest flight information screen to see that my flight now was not on the screen anymore. It no longer existed. The next flight out was not for another hour and a half. I quickly scanned the terminal looking for any airline employee who could direct me to the right person or place so I could get home. She was there at gate C-14.
I approached C-14, still trying to catch my breath, and caught the first place in line. As I stepped up to the front counter an older business man quickly jumped in front of me and asked a question about his connection flight. This day was not getting any better. The employee asked if he had missed flight 792, which happened to be my flight. I spoke up only to find out that I had fully missed my flight. I was booked on standby for the next flight out. Unfortunately I was number 15 on the standby list.
Starving and tired I walked over to a fast food counter ordering something to resemble a dinner. I placed two phone calls as I carried my bagged food and two carry-on bags down to my new gate. I sat down for barely five minutes before the loudspeaker came on and announced that my fight had a gate change. I lost my appetite and threw my untouched food away before waking down to gate C-11.
The next hour did not pass quickly as I stressed over the situation sitting in my lap. Again, there I was sitting on the faded blue carpet hoping my miles could get me anywhere but there. Maybe 100,000 miles could bump me to the front of the standby list and place me in a first class seat.
Group by group passengers loaded the plane as I sat there in a blank stare hoping to hear my name called. Every name in the book was called it seemed except mine. Seat by seat the waiting area cleared making room for me and my two bags. It was going to be a long night. As I sat down I noticed to my left a US soldier dressed in uniform standing against a wall. He seemed to be waiting for the same flight I was. This made him standby passenger 14 or 16 as the entire area eventually cleared except for he and I. My name was eventually shouted out as I quickly looked up to make eye contact with the gate agent. A rush of relief came over me knowing that I could make it home tonight. I grabbed my bags and ran up to the counter looking back to see the soldier standing there alone. It hit me then. Though I wanted something simple to happen today I wasn’t asking for anything huge like the war to end. However, I could give up my chair and let this soldier head home. If anything maybe the war could end for his parents whom he was possibly heading to see. I spoke in a hushed tone with the gate agent telling her I wanted to give up my seat for this uniformed soldier. She ripped up my ticket and called this young man telling him a seat opened up for him. I walked to the nearest chair ready to collapse and settle in until I could be hooked up with a hotel voucher. After all maybe that’s what 100,000 miles could get me…a free hotel in a strange town. Plus, when am I ever afforded the luxury of having some alone time outside of my home? It was all beginning to sound nice to me.
Before I became too comfortable I heard my name once again. The gate agent asked me to follow her as she walked down the ramp to the jet. Thinking there was one more seat available I followed her directions. She stepped into the jet as I remained outside until she reappeared. Mumbling a seat number she told me to step on in and grab a seat. Relief, once again, came over me. I walked down the isle feeling hundreds of eyes on me. I glanced at first class before stepping back in coach and noticed the soldier sitting there in 3B. There it was….the first class seat I was hoping for all day. Instead I was welcomed to a window seat at the back of the plane. I settled in and looked out the window only to see darkness. Once again the jet engine sat outside my window accompanying me for the final flight home.
100,000 miles got me home last night, safe and sound.
posted by Mr. T at 9:02 PM
6 Comments:
Life is like a box of chocolates........ Thanks for giving to a soldier.
Love, Dad
You have always been good at performing random acts of kindness. I am glad you got home finally. Sorry we didn't get together while you were in OR. You're DRIVING to Branson for Christmas right! =)
Life is ironic. And your life is DRA-MA-TIC!
Dude. If you are ever delayed in DFW. Call me.... what a crazy storie. JERICA
Hey Matt Thomas! I have finally found your blog! Yay! I knew you would have one. I've been blog hopping the last few days (just a bit bored at work). Call next time your in town! I'd love to see ya!
Matt, I had no idea you were such a great writer! Love the story...
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