Friday was the day for …
- FInal presentations and discussions, esp. the ones which had gotten the least prep time.
- Trying to do various week-end status reports while still participating in discussions. (Fred: “Dave, you dog! How did you get your status report in already?” Dave: “Because I’m good.”
- Wrap-up and summary and assignments of the various activities developed.
- Getting the Boss to sign the stuff we brought out for him to sign (esp. important because he is then off on three weeks of travel. Argh.)
- Heading home.
The last item garnered the most attention (though the other ones went pretty well, too).
Despite efforts to get this to go four full days. the travails of the East Coasters trumped that sentiment for the last day. Facing 7-9 hours of travel (with time zone changes and layovers), and with a dearth of later flights to enable it, we were scheduled to be let go at 3, to give us 90 minutes to get down to LAX and the first flight someone else had, at 5:30.
We actually got off at 2:30 or so, and quickly hustled to the car, which I drove quickly but safely southward. We made good time until Sepulveda Pass, of course, at which point it was slow-and-go to the airport.
Now, I’d done some research. I had a 7:55p flight. The next earliest flight United recorded was 4:35p. It was 4:10 as we were riding the shuttle back from the Hertz lot. United is, natch, the last terminal.
This was the first time I’d gone into the United Premier terminal — wherein we Elite and Premier and Platinum Flyers get our own lines and check-in kiosks. A small chamber orchestra in the corner provides entertainment, and there’s a whiff of cardamom and cash being wafted from small braziers. Just kidding about most of that.
So I check in — and, huzzah! there’s a 5p (“Delayed”) I can get on stand-by (but not confirmed stand-by, which meant I didn’t give it all much hope). The other person I was with had a 6:30p flight, but was being told she might be able to get on a a 4:45p to Chicago earlier, if she could make it.
We dashed to the security lines. I let Suzie go first, since she had the closest “connection.” I was going to tell her that she could just run ahead after security, but when I glanced over — she was in the Box.
*sigh*
Now, Suzie is one of the most trustworthy and upstanding persons I work with. She’s the “person in the room you’d trust to raise your kid” sort. So, of course, the irony (beyond her being in a rush) of having to through the wanding, and then the swabbing of the inside of all the bags was even more amazing/irksome.
She eventually demonstrated she wasn’t a terrorist, and we proceeded at speed toward the gates.
I waved her on to go check at my stand-by — figuring I could at least confirm I wasn’t going to be on the flight.
To my surprise (1) they did indeed have seating on the 5p for me, and (2) the guy asked, “Hey, can you get down to gate 77 in 5 minutes?”
Watch the Dave-shaped hole in the air once you get my boarding pass printed.
So I did the OJ Simpson down the concourse and raced onto my plane — with a very nice seat, as well — made a quick call to Suzie and to Margie — and as a result got to the house at 8:30a (rather than after midnight) — which is, of course, not a bad way to end a long business trip.