Go Now
It was 4:30pm on Saturday afternoon. I was in Harvard Square picking up little travel-sized bottles of shampoo at the drugstore. Precisely one year ago to the day, I had booked a trip to Paris for my birthday. I'd never been and always wanted to go, but something always seemed to get in the way of actually going. Life, jobs, relationships, family, finances. But finally in February 2016, I managed to pull my shit together and buy the tickets.
And so there I was, in CVS, less than 24 hours before my flight departure, trying to shake the disbelief that very soon, I'd actually be standing in Paris, France. I was excited and thrilled and terrified. That's when I got the text from the airline saying my flight was cancelled.
I tried very hard not to be that crazy woman hyperventilating in the shampoo aisle. A year of planning, waiting, daydreaming, memorizing city arrondissements, practicing French phrases for "Where is the toilet?" and "Would you be so kind as to fill my entire body with cheese?" all suddenly came grinding to a halt. I panicked and fled home to call the airline.
British Airways were (and are) wonderfully polite. They offered immediately re-booking on any other flight of my choice. I wrote down all the viable options and then called Mike, boyfriend and traveling partner. I informed him in a not-entirely-calm voice that our flight tomorrow morning had been cancelled. To his credit and my surprise, Mike was entirely at ease with the news. He took it like a zen buddhist monk, which immediately calmed me down and reminded me why he is so very awesome.
At this point, the clock read 5:00pm, Saturday. Our 8:00am Sunday morning flight was no longer in existence. Our options were now: a 7:20pm flight Sunday evening, a 9:30pm flight on Sunday evening, or an 8:00am flight on Monday morning. All of the flights would result in us losing one day of our non-refundable hotel room and also missing Superbowl LI, which I had promised Mike (world's biggest Patriots fan) that he would get to see. Neither of us were thrilled about our new departure times.
Then I added almost as an afterthought, "And there's a 9:30pm flight tonight as well, but we'd have to go now. Like, right now." He paused for three seconds and then replied, "Let's go now." I asked him if he was sure. He asked me if I could be packed and ready by the time he got over to my place. I said yes. He said, "Well then let's go now. If you forget anything while packing, we'll buy it over there." So that's exactly what we did.
A sprinkle of salt, a dash of blood, and a massive pentagram protects your luggage from baggage goblins.
For the next hour, I packed like a bat out of hell. Mike arrived and helped with all the last minute tasks like watering plants and unplugging things. Then I showered, dressed, and called an Uber to take us to the airport. We made it in perfect time.
Three hours after the cancelled flight text message in Harvard Square, the two of us were seated at the airport bar, boarding passes in hand, calmly sipping cocktails. We toasted to what is now our successful travel philosophy, GO NOW. It seems unreal that we managed to make that flight. I think we were still in a state of semi-disbelief as we boarded the plane. But we made it and everything somehow worked out just the way it should.
A special shout out to the British Airways flight attendant who procured two glasses of champagne for us, even though it wasn't technically available in economy class. You made an unplanned, last-minute red-eye flight pleasantly smooth and the start of our trip unforgettable.
