No news is good news

I was supposed to be spending this evening in Dallas. Dammit, I was looking forward to a plate of Texas Barbecue!

I checked in at the airport way too much ahead of time; I've never seen the security line as short as it was today. No more than a dozen people ahead of me. I'd allowed two hours from arrival at the carpark to commencement of boarding but I reckon I could have done it in 30 minutes.

Of course, the next time, if I think that, I'll miss the flight. Nope, as far as I'm concerned flying is something you just have to devote a couple of hours of time to before even boarding the plane. Having my music player makes it a much more bearable experience. It's amazing how soothing Mendelssohns Third Symphony can be!

The aforementioned symphony finished just as they announced pre-boarding. So I switched the player off and waited for the announcement of first class boarding. Not that I was travelling first class of course but, being a Star Alliance 1K flyer, I get the privilege of boarding at that time. No standing impatiently in the aisle for ten minutes as part of group 6 (the last group) for this little black duck!

I heard my name being paged for an urgent message. It was the boss telling me the meeting had been postponed and not to board the plane. Talk about cutting it close; another 3 minutes and I'd have been onboard!

Ok, so now I go to the desk and tell them I've been told not to board the plane. Perhaps I could have worded it a little better; the expression on her face was indicative of someone suspecting foul play. Or perhaps, with the current level of airborne paranoia I was reading things that weren't there. Whatever. I explained and the first question was 'did you check a bag?'. I confirmed that I had indeed checked a bag.

About this time you're probably thinking the story is going to go to the same place I thought it would at that moment; a flight delayed for half an hour or more while they search the hold for my bag.

Not a bit of it! The next question was 'would you mind leaving your bag on the flight; we'll fly it back and you can collect it later. We'll lose an hour if we try and get it off now'.

So I shrugged and said that was fine. They did the various things needed to take my name off the passenger manifest and ensure my bag would be diverted back to Phoenix.

It wasn't until a few minutes later that I realised the position I was in; or is this another manifestation of airborne paranoia? As I drove home from the office, a little after the flight would have arrived in Dallas, I was listening to the news hoping that I wouldn't hear it had gone down. Because of course, if it had, I'd have the FBI swarming all over me! Think about it, a long haired foreigner with a funny accent checks a bag onto a flight then cancels at the very last minute!

No news was definitely good news!!!