This has been an extra-long winter. A winter categorized by waiting.
…Waiting for spring.1
…Waiting in Ticketmaster queues.
…Waiting at the doctor’s office.
…Waiting for the next episode of The Pitt.
Above all, waiting in airports.
So far this year, I’ve been on 4 work trips and a vacation.
My friend shared an app with me called Flighty, which is essentially Spotify Wrapped for travel. It tracks your flights and creates fun stats about distance travelled, time in the air, and airline performance.
How fun!
Who doesn’t love data-based storytelling?
Or so I thought, until I saw my 2026 Delay Report….
Mind you, this is all within 6 weeks.
6 weeks!!
47 days, to be exact.
I’m averaging more than 2 hours of flight delays per week!
19 minutes A DAY of lost time!!
This also doesn’t factor in my actual time in the air, the Ubers to and from the airport, or any TSA shutdown security lines… All Herculean tasks in and of themselves.
No, no, no.
These 15 hours were caused by weather concerns and mechanical issues alone.
Time sacrificed to Newark, LaGuardia, and Pearson airports.
Time spent deplaning aircrafts, changing gates, or sitting on the tarmac.
Time that has been cleaved from my existence!
Time that I can only hope was sucked from my life source by an unseen airport entity and used as energy. Pieces of lost souls powering the bag carousel like a mechanical River Styx. The ultimate price for air travel.
Between this and my 0/27 Roll Up The Rim streak, it’s clear that I am not one of God’s chosen children.
That, or someone is paying an Etsy witch to curse me.
If you’re reading, ha ha ha!
Very funny!
We’re all having a great laugh over here!
I’m still processing how long 15 hours actually is.
I made a list of 15 things I could have done with that time instead of waiting in airports:
Taken 5 weeks of a university course
Flown from Toronto to London and back
Worked two full days
Walked a marathon and then watched The Titanic twice
Landscaped our backyard
Baked croissants from scratch
Listened to A Tale of Two Cities with an hour left over to pause and reflect
Stopped drinking water and became at imminent risk for seizures and organ failure
Watched a fruit fly egg hatch
Learned how to do a backhandspring, probably
Used up all of my therapy, massage, and physiotherapy benefits
Driven to my parents’ house in Ottawa, cooked an entire turkey dinner, and went back home
Watched all of The Hunger Games movies, including 3 extra hours for however long the newest installment is
Completed a third of my Private Pilot License, so I could just fly myself home and never have to be part of this nonsense ever again!
What did I do instead?
Great question!
I sat quietly.
I stared at the walls.
I listened to Normal Fucking Rockwell about 10 times.
Over and over again, I accepted the possibility that this is where I would live from here on out.
I contemplated life in various airports and made imaginary alliances with fellow passengers.
It might not be so bad.
I could run through the halls like a hamster in a plastic tube.
I could storm the airline lounges.
I could feast on endless popcorn in O’Hare.
Bathe in the fountain at LaGuardia.
No one would remember; this is a city of transient beings!
Hope is a dangerous thing for a passenger like me to have.2
Nothing is real in an airport!
Time doesn’t exist!!
Schedules don’t matter!!!
You can be your worst, most disgusting self.
Beyond the security check, we’re in endless purgatory, helpless to the whims of the airline overlords.
Bow down!!
Worship at the altar of the flight status screens!!!!
Nothing else can help you.
It’s every passenger for themselves.
There isn’t even a place to buy new pants!3
We’ll fight to the death over charging stations!
We’ll trample each other on the moving walkway!
This is ORD of the flies!!!
The rules are the only thing we've got!
DON‘T LEAVE YOUR BAGS UNATTENDED.
ONLY TWO ITEMS PER PERSON.
HAVE YOUR BOARDING PASS READY AND YOUR PASSPORT OPEN TO THE PHOTO PAGE.
Brace yourselves for anarchy!
After each delay, whenever it was that I made it home, I wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the airport of my own sanity.4
…Probably would have been cooler to be forklift certified.
Last thought:
Any day now…
An elite soundtrack for your next flight delay:
Seriously. This feels like a miss. Surely someone, somewhere, has required new pants in an airport.
I will never stop quoting classics in these whack-ass newsletters… Someone has to appreciate it! I am bridging timeless texts to modern woes! My life’s purpose is to create a place on the internet for memes like these to thrive:
