Will I Get Home In Time For Christmas?

On the taxi ride to the airport, I wished to Santa Claus the hardest I’ve ever wished to let me be able to go home in time for Christmas.

This was all because I left my dorm at 4:30 to try and catch a 6PM flight at JFK airport.

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After celebrating one last hurrah with many of my classmates, I woke up at 3PM with packing still unfinished. It was an intense race against time to get ready to leave, including throwing away about half of my belongings and stuffing what was left into my luggage. I ended up with three huge suitcases, along with a backpack stuffed with heavy textbooks and a laptop bag stretched at the seams filled with various miscellaneous items I had managed to fit inside. I basically put everything that was in my dorm room -- clothes, textbooks, class notes, electrical wiring, a kettle, a rice cooker, and a printer -- into these bags.

I was somehow able to carry all my luggage out of my room, fit it inside a taxicab, and check out of my dorm. Unfortunately, I only had about an hour and a half to get to JFK airport, and seeing how it was 4:30PM when I left, the taxi cab driver and I were going to have to weave in and out of rush hour traffic to get there in time. We made it to the airport in 45 minutes. I won't elaborate on the details of the ride there, but I will say this -- that driver was legit.

Since it was the holidays, the airport was jam packed with people waiting to get on their flights to go to where ever they needed to go, so naturally I waited an eternity to get through the check-out line. With all the luggage I had with me, I looked like a refugee from some impoverished country who had just immigrated to New York. I had my backpack on my back, my laptop bag strapped across my shoulder, one hand steering the luggage cart and the other hand dragging my last suitcase across the linoleum floor. I am sure it was a ridiculous sight, but i was too panicked and preoccupied to really notice.

At this point, I only had thirty minutes to go before my plane left for good, and the line was moving at a snail's pace. My eyes kept darting in a triangle between the check-in line, my watch, and the display of all the flights saying whether they were boarding, arrived, or delayed. The process went something like this; move one step forward, drag my suitcases, look at my watch, look over at the display to see if my flight had left yet. Rinse and repeat. Unfortunately by the time I got to the counter, it was too late; my plane had left. I had missed my flight.

I went up to the counter dismayed, expecting that there would be no last-minute flights available for me to take. It was the holiday season, and I was sure everybody had taken up every possible seat availble on every possible plane. It was starting to look I was going to spend Christmas by myself in a clusterfuck between managing my luggage and sleeping in the airport waiting for the next flight home in the morning. Still, it didn't hurt to ask the guy if I was going to make it home for Christmas.

"Hi there, I missed my flight today. Do you think you have any other seats available heading in that direction?"
“We have one seat available on a 7PM flight to Sacramento – would you like to take it?”

Holy Shit.

Of course I said yes! Even so, there were other issues I needed to deal with.

"Alright then, let's start weighing your bags.
THUMP, 54 pounds.
THUMP, 64 pounds.
THUMP, 82 pounds..."

...all of which were over the maximum weight of 50 pounds per bag. That meant in addition to the extra bag charges I knew and was willing to pay anyways, I was going to have to pay extra overweight fees on all three of my bags. After going through everything that I did, there was no way in hell i was going to do that. I told them to wait just one moment and went over in the corner to figure out what the hell I was going to do.

My only option was to throw stuff out to make my bags lighter. I spotted a nearby trashcan in the middle of the airport, opened up my suitcases and started throwing out notes, binders, books, old clothes, anything I knew I didn't really need. It was reminiscent of a sinking ship throwing cargo overboard to try and keep the ship afloat, just so the crew can stay alive a little while longer. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

I eventually got my bags checked in with only one bag overweight; not too bad considering where I started from. I then rushed through security and raced to the gate to get on my plane to Sacramento. As I sat down in my seat, I felt a surge of relief wash over me, finally knowing for sure that I was going to make it home for Christmas.

Happy Holidays everyone -- I hope your trip wasn’t as hectic as mine.

-Emoinacloset