Another Janet travel travail

Episode #toomanytocount of Janet’s travel travails.

Careful what you say … You could speak it into being.

And so, on a Thursday evening, I found myself chatting at the airport with the nicest lady who lives in Carmel. It turned out we had mutual friends. Julia was on her way to Las Vegas with her daughter for a one-day trip. Her flight was leaving an hour before mine. I joked, “Bet you get to Las Vegas before I get to Tampa.”

My travel issues are well known to my readers. Many say that if they ever see me on their flight, they will rebook. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but maybe not.

I was taking the 8:30 flight to Tampa, which gets me there about 11 p.m. My bedtime is 10:00, so that meant a really late flight for me. As we lined up to board, the gate attendant announced, “Those bound for Tampa on flight 1293, we need you to know that a maintenance issue has been discovered; please take a seat.”

A few minutes later, we heard the gentleman say, “Flight 1293 bound for Tampa, please move to Gate 17. We have a new plane coming in from Houston. Your plane will depart at 11:30.” I started trying to figure out the schedule in my already tired brain. 2 a.m. was the time I should be dreaming, not entertaining a nightmare.

It’s interesting how people react to flight delays. One lady gave the poor gate attendant a piece of her mind. It wasn’t pretty. He went out of his way to get the older passengers, including her, something to drink. I have no idea what her name was, but my mind called her Karen.

Most people seemed to think “it is what it is.” When we finally boarded, it felt like herding hungry cats with nary a meow. The pilots and attendants had been flying for most of the day, yet they were pleasant and simply asked everyone to be patient. The plane was eerily quiet.

We were told the original plane had lost its navigation lights. I hope Karen realized that could have been a serious issue. Better safe than … sorry.

At 2 a.m., I ordered an Uber that dropped me off at Chuck’s house just before 3 a.m. I changed into my pajamas and collapsed into bed.

My alarm went off at 7:00 the next morning because a contractor was coming for a project between 10:00 and noon. I took a shower, got dressed, and headed out for breakfast … or so I thought. I was starving. I really needed coffee with Chobani sweet cream. I got into Chuck’s little red Focus, turned the key in the ignition, and heard, Click, Click, Click. Noooooo. We keep very little food in the refrigerator or pantry. I was starving. I really needed coffee and a Bocado from First Watch.

I called AAA, and they said a truck would be out ASAP. You never know exactly what ASAP means. I called my daughter to tell her about my woes. I was close to having a come-apart. She said, “Mom, order a DoorDash.” “Emily, I don’t know how.” She saved my life and ordered me a Starbucks coffee and egg bites.

Honestly, I just wanted to cry. The past 12 hours had been brutal. I looked in the mirror and thought I looked like I had been hit by a Boeing 737.

Here’s where things got a whole lot brighter.

The DoorDash driver arrived in less than 12 minutes.

In less than 15 minutes, the AAA guy arrived and jumped my battery.

I drank my Grande White Mocha like it was a magical potion. The guys at Tires Plus checked my battery and starter and said the car was fully charged and that I should be fine.

It was a rough start to my week in Tampa, but I survived and had another column to write about my travel travails.

So, what about my new friend Julia? Oh, I’m sure she made it to Las Vegas before I got to Tampa. Next time, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.

Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). She is the recipient of the Reporter’s Spring 2025 Ink-Stained Wretch award. Visit janethartleonard.com.