Guadalajara 2019 - A Night in a Dallas Airport Super 8 Hotel or I'm Trying to Get to Mexico and This is as Far as I Got

I struggled with my bags through 3 inches of fresh snow to get to the airport. I checked the flight when I woke up, I checked the flight before I left the house, despite the weather the flight was still scheduled to leave on time. I received an email during the bus ride to the airport, the flight was delayed by 50 minutes threatening my chances of making my connecting flight in Dallas. I conferred with the helpful woman at the desk when I arrived at O'hare. After looking at alternatives we realized due to the brutal weather conditions that had settled over Chicago my best bet was to get to Dallas, hope I could connect and if not figure it out from there. While we were talking the flight was delayed another 20 minutes making the connection virtually impossible.  By the time I got to the gate the plane, originally scheduled to depart at 1:10 was now leaving at 2:45. I received an email at the gate informing me that the airline had rebooked me on a flight out of Dallas the following morning. A helpful gate agent printed the new boarding pass for me. I phoned the guesthouse in Guadalajara letting them know that instead of checking in that evening I would not be getting there till the following afternoon. Back to the gate, the flight was now delayed till 4. I got on my phone and perused hotels in the Dallas airport area. I settled on a Super 8 with an affordable price and a shuttle to and from the airport.

I read, my husband had picked up a promotional copy of a novel I had tossed in my bag at the last minute, it is not bad sci fi. I write, I eat half of one of the sandwiches my husband had thoughtfully prepared for me. I discretely check out the short, muscular guy sitting across from me wondering how he got his large thighs into the skin tight jeans he is wearing. I wonder how he is managing to sit down in them. Later I discover he is a rather affable sort, we exchange light conversation as we are both in the predicament of having to check our carry ons at the gate rather than carry them on.

They announced that the plane is en route to O'hare. It arrives, we board and we sit another 45 minutes. The captain comes over the intercom system explaining that the extreme cold is making the deicing of the plane problematic. Around 5 we are finally  in the air. 

I look at my fellow passengers. I notice that a majority of them appear to be one time defensive football linemen gone to seed. I notice that 2 of the largest ones are seated next to me making the already cramped conditions of the plane even worse.

Finally we arrive in Dallas. I check on my bag which is spending the night at the airport to be put on the plane in the morning. The baggage agent refers to it as "the bag that is going to Mexico". My bag has a title. The van picks me up and I am deposited at the door of a faceless concrete structure, my home for the night. I check in, assist a tiny woman on to the elevator who is attempting to maneuver a bag as large as herself and take a look around my no frills room. I check the bed for bedbugs, a ritual I have become accustomed to in our post DDT world. There was a nice body creme in the room which I used after my shower in the morning. My toiletries, except for my toothbrush and toothpaste, were spending the night at the airport with my bag.

The room is a bit chilly. The view is of the almost identical motel which sits across the parking lot. The breakfast, included with the room, is mediocre but edible. The water pressure in the shower is not great and the mineral laden Texas water has been softened giving it that unsettling silk like feel. All that being said it was cheap and beat the alternative of sleeping propped up in a chair at the airport.

I felt a certain sense of pride in my resourcefulness and resiliency. Keeping my cool and utilizing only my phone I managed to stitch together a plan to keep a roof over my head and eventually make it to my destination despite the obstacles thrown in my path. My younger self might have crumpled and had a meltdown during the arduous process, but, I kept a steely reserve and made it though. With my age comes a realization that life sometimes creates hills which, once ascended, leave you stronger as you go down the other side of them.