It’s 2:45 on a Thursday afternoon in March 2010 and I’m wrapping up a three-day workshop at the Pratt & Whitney plant in Lonquille, Quebec. It’s my favorite workshop with one of my favorite audiences.
Even though Pratt is my favorite client, the group in Montreal is my FAVORITE favorite group. They are engaged, ask lots of questions, and genuinely want to be there. I stay in a nice Holiday Inn near the plant and each evening enjoy eating in the little restaurant, having a few Sleeman’s Red beers and authentic French onion soup. It’s always an enjoyable trip.
It’s traveling there that’s the problem. For several reasons. And it’s only when leaving. Flying in is typically a breeze. I even flew in one night in the middle of a blizzard. I thought I’d be stranded at the airport, but the roads were just fine. A legion of snowplows helped. Canadians know how to handle snow.
Leaving is a different story. American Management Association, the group I’m contracted to, are a bunch of cheap bastards. They won’t pay for any additional evening’s lodging, so I do what I hate and take an evening flight home. Nothing good happens at an airport after 12PM. I firmly believe that. Not to mention the trip home requires four miracles happen to be pulled off correctly.
Miracle #1. Getting from the PWC facility to the airport. It’s about 35 miles but there are only two seasons in Canada: Winter, and road construction. Winter is slow for obvious reasons. When the snow melts however, Quebecers get busy with roadwork. The salt does a number on the roads and bridges. Construction is everywhere and constant. You’ll be in traffic for sure. But, if you navigate it just right, you should make it to the airport on time. Which means it’s time for Miracle #2.
Miracle #2. Getting through Customs. I learned a long time ago to pre-fill a bunch of those immigration forms and have them ready to go. That’s never been the problem. It’s the maddeningly slow process of going through immigration on your way home. Nobody moves fast, and if traffic slowed down your drive to the airport, you might be sweating bullets by now, worried about missing your flight. However, if the stars align, the drive was smooth, and the line not too long, you can prepare for Miracle #3.
Miracle #3. Leaving on time. Did I mention nothing good happens in an airport after 12PM. Particularly if you’re dealing with flights in the Spring, Summer, Fall, or Winter. Weather delays are the bane of business travelers. Each season brings their own unique methods of screwing up flights. It’s a problem because I fly on the United shuttle that goes back and forth between Montreal and Dulles International Airport in Virginia. Weather can be an issue here. And if there is weather in one location, the other one won’t be serviced. But if things go just right, get ready for Miracle #4.
Miracle #4. Getting home on time. Dulles is one of my least favorite airports. It’s huge and you either get around on a small train that only services a portion of the terminal, or you ride a mobile boarding tram that is pulled by a tractor between terminals. A relic from the late 1970s. Maybe before I turn 100, they might replace it. Once you get out of the airport, you get to your car, which is likely parked a great distance away. Then the last part of Miracle #4: navigating DC traffic to make it home.
If all goes well, I usually roll in around midnight. That’s a big IF. But that’s how it’s supposed to go.
But on this May afternoon, I have a bad feeling. Something doesn’t seem right. I check my app, and the flight out is scheduled on time, but it’s still early in the day. This is before real-time flight tracking is a thing so I’m hoping it stands.
I say goodbye to the last of the attendees and head to my car. I check my watch and it’s almost 3PM. I turn on the Garmin GPS and let it guide me to Trudeau International Airport.
Traffic is bad. The line on my GPS is red. I’m losing time rapidly. So hopefully it breaks up soon. I arrive 90 minutes later, turn in the rental car and haul ass up to the terminal. I pull out my customs form and get in line. And boy, it’s a long line today. I find, by listening to the grapevine, at least the one in that long line, that there is a government slowdown. Not a shutdown, but a slowdown. This was in the earlier days of our government’s now legendary inability to reach compromise on some stupid piece of legislation or funding. And those ICE workers are doing their part to put on a slowdown. They move at a pace slightly slower than old people walk. The line creeps along. I can forget about getting any food now. Thankfully I have a small bag of cashews, but I could sure use a drink now!
At last, I get to the window. I put my passport on the glass viewer. The agent looks at it, looks at me, then walks away. I just stand there wondering what’s going on. I see him stroll over to shoot the shit with a co-worker, and then he saunters back to me.
“Ok you can go now,” he tells me. I resist the urge to tell him “About fucking time you lazy sack of shit.” I’d rather get home on time.
I leave through the Custom’s exit which leads you through a large, duty-free shop. The air is filled with the aroma of a variety of perfumes. Somehow, they all blend pleasantly. Not like it smells when you walk into the Yankee Candle store in the mall.
Then, with Miracles #1 and #2 in the books, it’s time to tackle #3.
As expected, there are problems here too. The shuttle is delayed out of IAD, not surprising. Sometimes I get lucky here and manage to get on an earlier shuttle that’s also delayed. That’s not happening today. Each flight is booked. And delayed. At least I have time to get some food. My flight won’t be leaving out now until after 8PM.
Well, it would have been nice if it left at 8PM. With storms now in Northern Virginia, IAD is significantly delayed. The shuttles are all backed up. It’s nearly 10PM and the passengers who, like me, can’t wait to get home, hold our breath as a decision is made on that last flight from IAD.
It’s cancelled. Great! Now we all race to the counter to figure out rebooking.
We are scheduled on an Air Canada flight the next morning. It leaves at 9:30 AM. I am pissed, but at least I know I’ll be home tomorrow. Now, if I can only find a nice place to stretch out so I can sleep here in the terminal. It’s not my first time. I’ve done it once at ORD and ironically, at IAD too.
But it’s not happening here in Montreal. We are told to clear out of the international terminal. Now I must find a place to sleep tonight and have to navigate Miracles #2 and #3 again tomorrow morning.
There is a Marriott attached to the airport. I run as fast as I can to hopefully snag a room. If not, then I’ll have to sleep outside the secured area and that’s not a comforting thought. Nothing but hard floors out there.
I get to the hotel counter and thankfully, there is one room left. I can have it for the low, low price of $380.00. Those cheapskates at AMA are going to love this when it comes on my invoice. But I’m not paying out of my pocket.
I ride the elevator to my floor and find my room. When I open it, I discover there is no bed. No bed! I just spent $380.00 for a room with a desk and a chair and a small conference table. I call down to the lobby to complain and am told this has a Murphy bed. That conference table converts. After spending 20 minutes trying to figure out how to lower it, I unpack and hit the bed.
This has been the absolute day from Hell. Thank God it’s over. Hopefully tomorrow is a better day. It has to be. My daughter Allison is celebrating her 11th birthday tomorrow. She’s having a sleepover party with a bunch of her middle school friends. Barb is working late, so I need to be home and prepped when Allison and her friends get off the school bus at 3:00 PM. As it is, I arrive at IAD by noon. That should leave me plenty of time, even in the worst traffic.
I fall asleep sometime after 11. Before I fall asleep, I make a silent intention that tomorrow isn’t a complete clusterfuck like today was.
If I only knew…
Next Week: Part 2 of the Business Trip from Hell