Misadventures

Technically, the flight was supposed to be on time. That was all that really mattered. Let's keep that as the silver lining for the unfolding of events of this very long day. Let me synopsize.

-My car service was waiting at 6 am across the street. I had to scale--with luggage and impractical shoes-- a plowed snowpile to get to the car while the driver sat engaged in an animated dialogue on his cellphone. His name was George and he was a very chatty man. Very chatty. Did I say he was chatty? He was so caught up in the sound of his own voice that he didn't notice he left the windshield wipers going the entire drive despite the absence of moisture on the windshield. The scraping sound was like fingernails on a blackboard.

-I got to JFK at 6:45 am and stood in line at the American Airlines check in counter until 8:20 am. People ahead of me were restless then became mutinous. At least the flight was still on time.

-The flight boarded at 9:00 am. Great! I sat next to a charming woman, an American expatriate who had lived in London for 27 years who taught art history. She was fascinating. 10 am..we're still sitting at the gate. 11 am, noon..we're--uh--still sitting here. They de-ice the plane. We finally push back to take off at 1 pm. We've been sitting here for four hours, going no where fast.

-I finally saw "Dreamgirls" on the plane. That Jennifer Hudson can sing. I was surprised to find myself welling up with tears when she sings "I'm Not Going." It really moved me, but there's nothing worse than bawling at a movie you're watching on a plane.

-The plane lands at 10:45 pm. It is nearly a mile walk to customs. The luggage comes slowly. In fact, my bags are almost the last ones off. By the time they come around the carousel, there are only two other people waiting for their bags...and the flight was a full 777 aircraft.

-It's a long ride in the taxi to central London, but it's a pleasant evening and my driver cruises through Kensington and Chelsea, Westminster and along to my hotel which is near Tower Bridge. I suddenly remember it's St. Patrick's Day which explains why people are overflowing out of the pubs onto the street and why I see a young woman vomiting into a garbage can while her friends hold her hair back as she does so.

-I get to the hotel at 12:30 am. All I want to do is get upstairs, unpack, shower, have something to eat, blog and fall into bed. I get my key and schlep up to the 6th floor. When I get to the door, the key doesn't work. I go back downstairs and they sort the key out. When I finally enter the room, I am surprised to find that I am in the world's smallest hotel room. It must measure 12 feet long and 7 feet wide. It has a single bed that barely fits into the space, a postage stamp desk and absolutely no drawers or floor space.

-Since it's so late, the only late night dining options are melon and parma ham, pizza, a BLT, steak and kidney pie, curry and their version of a club sandwich which has chicken, mayonnaise, bacon, fried egg and iceberg lettuce, served with chips and peas. I had the curry which was medium hot and as it always is in England, very good.

-It's 3:19 in the morning and there's now a party and/or group sex event taking place in the room next to me. I would give a limb right now in exchange for an Ambien.

But at least the flight was on time.