Somehow I’ve pissed off the travel gods. Today they decided to delay my connecting flight back to Atlanta for two hours before cancelling it. So I’m stranded in Dulles, Virginia.
I could put a bit in here about how Dulles airport is the most hateful place on the planet Earth, and how the mouthbreathing pederasts who work for United at the airport are a scourge that must be stricken from the world, but it’s already very late and I want to go to bed.
It should suffice to say that I landed around 3:30pm, and it’s 2am now and I just got to the hotel. (Which, it’s worth pointing out, I have to pay for. Thanks, United!) I thought for a while about how I could get manage to get some work done around airport times and hotel check-out times and such, and then I thought, “screw it.” If I’m stuck here anyway I might as well make the best of it. I’m going to make an attempt to travel to DC and see the Mall and memorials and George’s house. It’s been 15 years since I’ve been to DC, and seeing as how I’m never ever going to travel to Dulles again, this may be my last chance.
Of course, the weather that supposedly cancelled my flight will probably ruin any attempts at sightseeing. And according to the internets I’m at least an hour away, so it may be completely impractical. And my camera is in my checked luggage, which is currently at some unspecified location in the southeast, so I’d be getting nothing but memories. Still, reading Sarah Vowell and a biography of Robert E. Lee got me hankering to see the capitol again, so I figure it’s worth a shot.
(Of course I wouldn’t even be considering it if my daddy’s condition weren’t relatively stable. But since I’m going to be stuck here anyway, it’ll be better than sitting here in a hotel room feeling depressed and worthless for not being down there already).
Update: What gets me is that no matter how pessimistic I think I’m being, it’s not pessimistic enough. Getting from the airport to anything sightseeing-worthy in DC would take a couple hours on a good day, and this weather has apparently paralyzed the entire Washington area. I didn’t feel like risking an attempt out there, so I just get to wait at the airport again for five hours (at least; this flight is going to be delayed as well, I’ll bet a million bucks). What’s really a drag is that this would’ve been a perfect opportunity to see my friend Alfredo for the first time in I don’t know how many years, but no dice. Maybe when I make my big tour of the eastern seaboard again, hitting Boston, New York, DC, and everywhere except #@$%&! Dulles, VA.