After three weeks of SOPs/OOSs/NCRs/VDIRs/CARs/CAPAs I had a couple of B-52s and got on a B-737 and headed home. I was comatose for the flight to Chicago O'Hare International Airport (I even missed out on the free beverages and snacks). Ok, now for my O'Hare Airport Foamy Rant: I hate this airport with all the rage and passion that my soul can muster up; here are the reasons:
- They couldn't find our flight crew - they were MIA, only to show-up with McStank bags and drinks in hand (wtf?). Our plane left three hours late.
- I was in the last group to board the plane and the second-to-last one to get off the plane.
- My aisle seat was on the very last row of the plane; therefore, my seat did not recline, I was right next to the bathroom (which was constantly being used), and I couldn't lean against the side of the plane to fall asleep.
- The bad karma from Chicago made its way to SLC: our ground crew could not be found, so we could not taxi into the gate and so they ended up dumping us off onto the tarmac. Then... yes, there is more... they announced that our luggage was on carousel two, then three, then finally one. I made it home Sunday morning.
I have some great memories of Canada thanks to the Kevin, the individuals at the firm's we inspected, and the people at the hotel (including Giovanni, who made the best omelets I've eaten, and Rachel, who advised us on where to party). I will have fond memories of "BAM!", (if you are reading this blog out loud, you are required to say the next sentence with your tongue sticking out, for the full sentence) "I'm allergic to cinnamon!", and crazy-weird jam sessions to songs like "Don't Stop the Music". Below is a little wrap-up for the end of my Canada trip.
May I never be stuck in Chicago O'Hare International Airport again...
Although, this picture of the airport is appealing, looks can be deceiving...
Although, this picture of the airport is appealing, looks can be deceiving...