Bunkin' with the Boss
This is my contribution to the Valentine's Day program. My
former boss and I, still friends, wish everyone a Happy
Valentine's Day.
Robert and I were on our way back to Boston from a week-long
business trip. Our itinerary called for us to change planes at
O'Hare in Chicago on a Friday afternoon, always a busy time. As
we began our descent into O'Hare, the pilot announced that there
were terrible rainstorms in Chicago, that the airport was
flooded -- people could neither get in nor out -- and that we
would hope to land shortly. We circled for some time and
finally, luckily, were one of the last flights permitted to land.
Naturally, our leg to Boston was delayed, as was every other
flight at O'Hare. I have never seen an airport so packed to the
gills. It was not accessible to subways or cars. Several hotel
shuttle buses which were on the one route that avoided the
flooded roadways were the only means of transportation, and only
within the airport perimeter. Even the flight crews could not
get in or out.
Since the flight to Boston was listed as 'delayed' rather
than 'canceled,' we continued to hope that we would get out that
night. In the meantime, the airport was in total chaos. There
were lines of people in front of every food area, even the
pretzel kiosk. People were spread out on the floor trying to
sleep, knowing they were going to have to spend the night.
Children were hungry and crying. Every phone booth had lines of
at least 50 people trying to communicate with family or book a
hotel room.
Robert had begun to get sick on the flight from California to
Chicago. By the time we landed, he was having stomach pains,
sweating and feeling weak. I knew that the chances of getting
home that night were slim and that we would want to find a
hotel. However, with no access in or out of the airport, and all
the phones in use, getting rooms was going to be a challenge.
I shepherded Robert to the Red Carpet Room thinking that perhaps
the lines for phones would be shorter and we might be able to
get some food. Unfortunately, there was no food and, although I
did manage to get access to a phone, all the lines going out
were busy. Printed on the phone were numbers to several
hotels. I pushed the button for the direct line to the Westin
Hotel at the airport and unbelievably made a connection. When
the operator answered, I booked one room for the night, thinking
that if our plane actually departed that evening, our company
would only have to pay for one unoccupied room (ever the
cheapskate, I worried about wasting company money). If the plane
didn't leave, at least we would have one room and I would work
on obtaining another.
As the evening wore on, our hopes for leaving that night dimmed.
The airport began to settle down. There was no food left
anywhere, and people were trying to sleep in any available
space. Robert was getting more and more uncomfortable.
Our flight was canceled at about 8:00 p.m. I guided us downstairs
to the shuttle bus area. It was still a madhouse outside with
people trying to get to hotels. Finally, a shuttle for the
Intercontinental Hotel pulled up. I told the driver that we were
trying to get to the Westin. He replied that the roads were
closed everywhere, but if we were willing to make a stop at the
Intercontinental, after he dropped his load there he would drive
as close to the Westin as possible and we could walk the rest of
the way. We agreed and clambered on board.
The roads were practically impassable. Puddles were a foot or
more deep. We drove the mile or so to the Intercontinental. I
ran inside to try to book the extra room at the Westin while the
driver was helping people move their luggage. The lobby of the
Intercontinental was wall-to-wall people. Desk agents were
shouting and gesticulating, trying to be heard over the din,
that there were no more rooms available. I tried to find a pay
phone but again, the lines were enormous. It occurred to me that
if I went up a few floors, I might be able to find a phone in a
hallway that would allow me to connect out. I climbed up 3 or 4
floors and did indeed discover a phone on a hall table.
I called the Westin and booked the extra room. Robert and I got
back on the overcrowded Intercontinental shuttle. Robert slumped
in his seat, battling pain and fatigue. A young couple with two
small children were seated opposite us. One of the children was
crying from exhaustion and hunger. We heard the husband say to
the wife, "What can we do? We will never get a room and we
couldn't afford it anyway." The wife looked upset and on the
verge of tears.
Robert and I looked at each other. No words passed between
us. "We have an extra room," I said quietly to them. "Don't
worry about the charge, our company will pick it up." They
looked at each other incredulously and gratefully nodded their
heads.
The driver dropped us near the Westin and we walked in. The
lobby was relatively quiet and the hotel was dark since they
were operating on an emergency generator. We checked ourselves
in and Robert and I and the young family went to our adjacent
rooms. They shook our hands with thanks and he murmured "God
bless you." We told them simply to charge the meals to the room
and slip the bills under our door the next morning.
As we finally collapsed into our respective beds, we began to
laugh.
"Are you going to tell Steve that you slept with your boss?"
Robert asked.
"Are you going to tell Sarah?" I replied.
'Let's figure it out in the morning," Robert said. And we both
went to sleep.
Laura
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