My trip to DC was quick and painless. And when my mother dropped me off at BWI in Baltimore to return to Phoenix, I sailed through checkin and security without hesitating. I thought "Good start." But I knew I was in for a longer trip home. First, when I booked my ticket, I had to choose what I thought the lesser of two evils. I had to pick a layover. The last time I flew through Memphis, Northwest Airlines was on a pilot strike and I was routed through Dallas, then through Salt Lake City, then home. That was a long day. So I chose a bigger hub. I figured it was better than Chicago, which could be snowy. I didn't quite realize that even though it was basically April, that Minneapolis is farther north. When we arrived in Minneapolis our plane was already running late because we had to fly around the snow storm.
Yes, a snow storm. With six inches of snow on the ground.
I was just excited to have the oppurtunity to switch airplane. This airplane was old, dirty and hot with less than stellar cabin pressure. And no movies.
When we touched down, I was just worried about having time to get to my gate, potty and get a snack. I was hoping to hold out until I got to Phoenix so that I could have dinner with my husband.
I got off the plane and then turned around to see that I was deparating from the the same gate. With the same airplane. The estimated departure was ten minutes after the original schedule. I thought, "Great! Now I have time to go to the bathroom and grab a snack". When I surveyed the snack options, I decided just to go with something small figuring we'd be on our way and to Phoenix in under three hours.
Little did I know that I would be sitting at the gate for an extra thirty minutes, and then on the runway for an hour being de-iced, and then flying almost three hours.
About two hours into this ordeal, I started to get desperate. I wasn't that hungry. I think I was just tired, bored and a little hungry. I needed a distraction. Any distraction.
The snack box was on $5. And inside were Wheat Thins (yeah!), imitation cheese spread (yuk!), Oreos (well...I am pregnant), stale trail mix (disappointment!)...and a summer sausage.
I cannot begin to tell you my dislike of all dried beef products. I haven't eaten one since I was in tenth grade in the back seat with Joe Ward on the way home from an away basketball game. And the memory I have of it was that it does not go well with Ben & Jerry's icecream.
After the disappointing trail mix, I turned the sausage over and read the ingredient label and it didn't have any fillers, so I thought, "Why not? Let's just smell it." And it smelled good. So I ate it. To those who are unaware of what pregnancy does to you: being pregnant can make you desperate enough to eat summer sausage.