There are moments when you simply step back and say to yourself, “This isn’t really happening. This can’t be real life.” Last night, I had such a moment. Here’s what happened: Our flight from New Hampshire to Philadelphia was delayed for well over two hours The plane was there, the crew was ready, but weather in Philly was holding things up. We had a great time with the Southwest crew during the delay, but we (along with FareCompare HQ) were monitoring the US Airways flight I was supposed to catch from Philadelphia to Providence, Rhode Island (PVD). Would Rhode Island become my…Waterloo???

Luckily for us, the delays were affecting all of Philadelphia, so the flight to PVD was getting pushed back. When we finally boarded the plane in New Hampshire, I readied myself for what I knew would be a mad dash when I landed (It would just be me. The director was staying behind in Philly.).

I packed the Santa jacket and hat (kept the pants on), jettisoned some gear that was weighing me down, and got a layout of the Philadelphia airport from the folks back in Dallas.

The Sprint

We touched down in Philly. I would have to change terminals, so I knew it was going to be close. I got bogged down on the plane despite the flight attendants’ best efforts to help me get past people. I hit the jetway and began to run faster than I have since 7^th grade track.

The Demonic Cleaning Crew

Sweat pouring down my face, two bags rolling behind me, I checked the Big Board and headed for the fastest route to US Airways Terminal D. Then: Bam! A cleaning crew. I literally ran into a cleaning crew.

“Caution Wet Floor” signs and buffers had shut down my getaway route. A man yelled that I would have to go back the direction I came from and go down to the lower level. Like a young Ferris Bueller, I deftly spun my bags and bolted for a new exit, Santa pants and all.

Still Running

I made it outside. The brisk wind of the city of my birth smacked me in the face. I fought through it and made it to Terminal D.

News from Dallas: The PVD flight was still on the runway. I did my best to hurry through security, not knowing if I would make it to the plane.

Losing It

I was in. I could still make Providence. I ran to the Big Board again. Bam! I was in the wrong terminal. Either fatigue, delerium, or waning eyesight had led me to believe I should run to Terminal D. In actuality, the flight was leaving from Terminal C.

Then, I truly fell apart. Instead of pulling it together and finding the best way to Terminal C, I bolted back through security and out the door. Oddly, the wind had changed directions and was still blowing in my face. I ran to Terminal C.

Still in the Running

News from HQ in Dallas: Flight delayed. Plane still on ground. I ran to the first security checkpoint. It was closed (it was well after Midnight at this point). I ran to another checkpoint. “Boarding Pass and ID,” the TSA agent says. I reach into my pocket.

No boarding pass. I dig through my bags. Passes for PVD back to Philly and Philly to Burlington. No Philly to PVD. It’s gone. I dropped it in Terminal D.

Out of Luck

I can’t get through security even with boarding passes for the next morning. I run downstairs to US Airways. No one is there. The kiosks are turned off. I grab the white courtesy phone (yes, like in Airplane), but I can’t get anyone on. I page the US Airways Gate. No one comes.

Finally, I grab a pilot and a flight attendant walking out of security after a long day of flying. I spout off my story, and they stay to try to help me. But even they can’t get me through. As they head down the escalator, the pilot turns to me and says, “I’m sorry. This airport is a s**t-hole.”

I am defeated. Philadelphia International has bested me. Like the “nerd” in a John Hughes movie, I walk out into the cold night alone.

–Grumpy Santa