When last we left Bossy she was obsessively hitting the refresh button of her airline website to determine if her snowy flight to sunny Phoenix was cancelled. It was. But the nice folks over at USAir suggested Bossy wait a day and then fly out to San Francisco where she would catch a connecting flight to Phoenix — which Bossy didn’t argue because during the time spent on hold with the airline Bossy had aged 57 years and developed necrosis of the tongue.
Early the next morning Bossy’s husband drove her to the airport across ice-laden highways. “Don’t worry,” Bossy’s husband said. “The airport has Advanced Plowing Technology.” A few minutes later she was deposited in a twisty check-in line with approximately a galaxy’s worth of vacationers who just found out their six thousand dollar trip to Cabo San Lucos was cancelled. Again.
Bossy blah blah waited blah. She blah blah ran to the security checkpoint blah. Bossy blah blah was randomly selected to be searched as if she were a terrorist blah.
A few minutes later she was situated on the plane. The plane with the Small Electrical Failure that took nearly two hours to fix. During which time Bossy peered out her airplane window and admired the airport’s Advanced Plowing Technology.
And then the flight landed in San Francisco! Problem! Due to the Electrical Failure delay, Bossy missed her connecting flight to Phoenix! And so when did the gate agent predict Bossy would be able to hop another connecting flight to Phoenix? Exactly never. “What do you expect on a Friday,” said the gate agent. “It’s Thursday,” said Bossy, which made the gate agent love her even more and want to have her children. In the meantime Bossy was put on standby and set loose in the concourse. And she enjoyed her stay in San Francisco, which from what Bossy could see was just as lovely as they say:
Bossy ate a $12 cup of cabbage soup, mastered Mandarin Chinese, graduated from Harvard, married her friend Ronny, became a successful playwright, she died. Now she knows why they call it the Terminal.
After seben-deeleben hours the airline issued Bossy a ticket to Las Vegas. All Bossy can confide is: What Happens On The Plane To Vegas Stays On The Plane To Vegas — especially if it involves a little drool and an eye mask.
And after a couple of hours in the Vegas airport spent growing new eye floaters, Bossy climbed on an uneventful flight to Phoenix. She made it — and it only took seventeen and a half hours.