Picture this;
We get up on Sunday, pack up all our stuff, shower, we're playing a bit of Toby Keith, feeling good, we check out. We're in the hotel lobby, about to jump in a cab.
Annie: Hey Caty do you want to pull up the ticket reservation on your laptop and check the flight number babes
Caty: Sure thing...babes (?)
*checks laptop*
Then it suddenly dawned on me that I was either a numbat who can't read, or we were well and truly screwed. I don't know which one is better. Everyone thought I was joking when I said; 'Guys, we booked flights back for the 15th of OCTOBER, not SEPTEMBER...which is an entire month away. Guess we're hanging out in Illinois for another four weeks'. When it dawned on us that yes, indeed, all three of us had failed to confirm, or even notice, the fact that we booked flights back IN THE WRONG MONTH, it was havoc. We set ourselves up in the hotel lobby like a CIA station. Armed with coffee (and a box of tissues for Bridge who was emotionally unstable) Annie hit up the flight company, I was searching for other flights and intermittently making more calls and Bridge was looking up bus timetables. It's kind of a big deal if you miss school in America without a medical certificate, miss three unexplained classes and you fail the course, and we had already delved into our freebies for other travel dates. Yeah, so...somehow 'we were stuck in the Midwest *thumbs up*' didn't seem quite viable. After a good two hours it became apparent that the flights were non-refundable, a bus or train took over 23 hours and the quickest time we could get back to Mass would be Monday evening, at a highly exorbitant cost. You know the moment when you realise that something so ridiculous, so absolutely unbelievable ACTUALLY happens to you? And all you can do is giggle hysterically in shock and disbelief We were like that.. For a solid 20 minutes before the fear and panic set in. It was awful. When I say exorbitant cost, I mean the-cost-of-having-to-cancel-our-weekend-in-New-York-to-make-up-for-money-spent-on-flight-back-to-Mass cost. Luckily Annie Darling is a Darling with a capital D, and she was on the phone for hours with the flight hostess who took severe pity on us as international exchange students who were dim enough to do such a thing, and she had a sister studying at Northeastern...after a lot of back and forth she persuaded her supervisor to let us get on a FREE FLIGHT the next day. She was lovely, and restored our faith in humanity. Bridget started crying again.
By now it was after midday and we were a bit overwhelmed. Gone was the sunshine that had graced us with it's presence for the last couple of days, the rain rolled in, so we headed to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch, and made the most of the afternoon, despite the gloom.
We found ourselves an emergency hotel, but it was blocks away, so in the pouring rain we trooped with our luggage...I'm talking like a 50 minute walk because we went the wrong way (classic). You know those times where it's raining hard and for the first 10 minute-leg of your journey you head for the undercover areas, have a jumper over your hair and avoid the puddles? But then as soon as the 11-minute mark hits the jumper comes off and then you're soaked to the bone and jumping in puddles for the fun of it. That was us. Chicago baby.
I think we checked in, sopping wet, around 3pm, and all crawled into our shared double bed and flicked on MTV with towels on our heads. We watched horrendous American television, giggling non stop at the absolute quality of it, ordered a lot of room service and ate it all in bed, before falling peacefully asleep in each other's company.
Despite the muddled-up ending, when I think of Chicago I think of sunshine, lipstick, improv theatre, cocktails, shoes, shopping, spas,jazz music, lights, exquisite food, Taco Bell and the best of times with the best of people.
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| Broadway bedazzled Maccas |
Chicago baby.
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