Always an Adventure

by Angela Sanford

Flashback to last Friday morning, June 20th: I had checked in the night previous for my flight later that day but by nine in the morning had already received the first notification that my flight was to be delayed. Seriously? At 9 am for an evening flight? SIGH.

Mid afternoon, the notification came that the flight was on schedule again so once the school day was done, Dan dropped me off at the airport for security check and boarding. I cleared the security check and grabbed a coffee at Tim’s , then sat at my gate, only to receive a text that the flight would be delayed – three hours! I made my way to the service counter to inquire about catching a different flight. She was very kind and offered me a stand by ticket on an earlier flight but also warned me it was very unlikely I’d get a seat as the flight was oversold (There’s a rant for another day).

   She was right – two of the ten people waiting for standby won the early departure lottery while the rest of us shuffled back to our original gate to wait. I notified the friends in Toronto that I was delayed and Lee texted back to ask if I had confirmed my stay because the hotel we were booked at had was now housing those displaced by the wildfires, and no longer had any rooms available.

   Of course, I then called the hotel and learned that, yes, my booking was fine but they would be transferring me to another hotel in their chain just down the road - what a relief while my sympathies went to those who were finding the Holiday Inn to be their home these days.

  I settled back into my seat until boarding time. Once on board, i placed my bag under the aisle seat ahead of me and engaged in polite banter with the lady adjacent to the window, with no one between us as this flight was not full. Shortly after take off, I pulled out my headphones and became oblivious to my surroundings, lost in my playlist while scrolling through memories in my photos. 

   About mid-flight, everything changed, and I regretted how easily I could block out distractions. A friend of my seating companion was at my side in the aisle, calling her friend’s name. Both myself and the gentleman (from their group) ahead of me turned to the lady to see a sight I cannot unsee. A sight I will not describe in graphic detail, as some may find it disturbing and among the three of us, none could rouse the middle age lady.

   I swiftly stepped into the aisle and allowed the friend to take control, but no efforts were making any gains. When the lady finally became conscious, it was accompanied by extreme choking and careful responses from those now active in her health care. 

   Meanwhile, the couple I had joined in the row diagonal to this were more concerned about me getting my bag from under my seat and their need to catch their connecting flight. I didn’t care about my bag and suggested to them that the main concern was this lady and that medical care would be needed for her before anyone would be permitted to exit the plane. This did NOT impress her and I got an earful to confirm her displeasure.

   Upon landing, medics made their way onto the plane and I offered my concern to the two people from her travel group who were supporting her. She did, however, walk off the plane, with assistance, so things were not nearly as dire as they had seemed earlier. 

   Outside the airport, I took my Uber to the original hotel, as per their directions, only to be escorted to my new destination by taxi. Exhausted, I went directly to bed. 

   Morning came and I collected my essentials for the day, took the stairs to the lobby and opted for making a coffee while waiting for my next Uber. I had just got settled in the lobby with my Cup of Joe in hand when the fire alarm went off and everyone was evacuated. We waited outside for the fire department to arrive and clear the building, which occurred about the same time I was off to my boxing event.

   I warned the organizers of the event that perhaps I might be a bad omen but the day went without event – at least until afternoon break when a group of us decided to walk to Swiss Chalet for dinner. Some would say that what happened next was a sign of good luck, but to Lyla and I it was not. We lead the group and as we passed under a tree a friendly bird left us with a parting gift ….

we both felt the <plop> simultaneously, however I faired better than she. Dressed in white dress shirts and black dress pants, the bird dropping hit only my shoulder. Lyla had been hit on the shoulder as well, but upon closer inspection, also found it was  necessary to also clean her pants when we arrived at the restaurant. 

   in all, there may be some truth in the superstition of a bird marking you with its excrement is good luck because the following day and flight home were relatively uneventful. in comparison.