Super Bowl Sunday is one of the most celebrated American traditions. I mean what could be more American than football, beer, and sitting on your ass for four+ hours, mindlessly consuming delicious finger foods like pigs in a blanket and wings the whole way through. Oh wait, that’s literally what I do every day. This year I was #blessed to be traveling on Super Bowl Sunday. I was supposed to go on a business trip to Orlando. This is how my day unfolded from start to finish.
I woke up half-drunk and drenched in my own sweat at around 8 AM. The night before I managed to come home and microwave some chicken poppers, but forgot to charge my phone. So here I am, about to leave for the airport with a dying phone and a rapidly approaching hangover. Already, the tone was set for the rest of the day. My flight was scheduled to leave at 10:50, so I rushed to gather my things and ran out the door. There was snow everywhere, and I thought that for sure my flight would be delayed or even canceled. As I trudged down the sidewalk with about 50 lbs of baggage in tow, the drunken stupor began to fade and the hangover began to set in. This was an aggressive hangover and, like the majority of my hangovers, I had a feeling it would be enduring. I rode the blue line to O’hare and upon arrival, found out that my flight was delayed an hour. Ok, great. I will use that extra hour to pull myself together, have some coffee and a
protein shake bagel. I also found a charging station, so things were starting to look up. The snow continued to fall, and the number of canceled flights grew. Not ours though. We boarded the plane at 1 PM and sat at the gate for about an hour while the crew worked to deice the plane. Then after about an hour the pilot came on and announced that the flight would be “permanently delayed.” So we deplaned and went back to the gate only to find out that there had been a miscommunication between air traffic control and the pilot….and the flight was back on. So for the second time we boarded the plane, said hello to the crew, went back to our seats and watched the safety video. The captain even briefed us on the weather in Orlando, again. Then once the plance was de-iced (again), we rode around on the taxiways for what seemed like hours. Everyone was silent, waiting expectantly every time the engine would rev. But an hour later we were still on the ground. The captain came on and told us that the weather was not subsiding and that it was not safe to fly. Yeah, no shit. It was a full on blizzard out there. It was after 4 PM at this point, so I had officially been at the airport for 7 hours and had spent 2 of those hours sitting on a grounded plane. I didn’t care how hungover I was, now more than ever I needed a stiff drink. So I got back on the L, rode for an hour, walked back to my apartment, and planted my ass on the couch to watch the Super Bowl with the rest of America. It was a nice ending to a shitty day.