While I’ve only ever traveled by myself a few times, every time I do, my mother imagines a different fiasco causing my demise. My mother, out of love, does not filter her sheer panic of possible disasters. What if I give my passport to a stranger? What if I accidentally write my entire social security number in a bathroom stall? What if I spend all my money on smoothies? Again! Every time, without fail, I reach my destination with no scratches. A few days ago, I traveled to Montreal by myself. This trip introduced me to my first real traveling mess. 

The Canadian airline I was to fly with always stopped in Toronto first, then made connections to different Canadian cities. When I arrived at my gate in Pittsburgh, I quickly befriended a group of nice young women taking a weekend trip to Montreal to relax and have fun. My connecting flight from Toronto to Montreal was at 4:45, but theirs was at 6:45. I would only have 45 minutes between flights, but they had a few hours. Suckers! 

As our small talk slowed down, I realized the time of our departure had passed. Then five more minutes. Then ten more minutes. Finally, as our entire gate was getting restless, a women dialed in the loud speaker to let us all know our flight was delayed. Such great insight. A few minutes later she announced all passengers on the 4:45 connection to Montreal would probably miss their flight. Damn! This news induced one long communal sigh from about 15 passengers that booked that flight. Quickly, each of the fifteen passengers tried bargaining with the Woman of Unfavorable News, asking her to change their flights or delay the 4:45. In the heat of the moment, I felt obliged to ask her a question, but I had nothing to say. What’s new. 

In the agony of waiting, four passengers seemed the most distraught about the delay. They kept talking to the woman and wiping the sweat from their foreheads. Personally, it wasn’t the end of the world that the flight was delayed. I was just going to visit my sister, so I knew we were not on a time crunch. However, with the mixture chaos and anger from the other passengers, I felt a strange need to make the 4:45 flight. I didn’t care what the Woman of Unfavorable News said. I would make the flight. Something told me those other four passengers had the same idea. 

Once we arrived in Toronto, it was 4:56. However, the flight to Montreal was also delayed! Thank goodness for unorganized corporations! Once the plane landed in Toronto, I sprinted off that plane but was bluntly stopped by the confusing, new airport. I had never been at this airport before and had no idea where to go. But then, I saw them. The four persistent passengers from my other flight. They were running together as a group, so I decided to follow them blindly.  My terrified mother would have been so proud. Together, we found the gate for the 4:45 flight, and they were still boarding! We all had a mini celebration and almost popped a few bottles of champagne. As we walked into the plane, our crew of determined flyers introduced ourselves. One white guy going to a bachelor party, two white girls going on vacation and visiting family, one Indian women going on a cruise with her cousins, and me. After the formalities, we never talked to each other again. 

For whatever it was worth, we made it to Montreal on time. Who knows, the others who missed the flight might still be trying to navigate that Toronto airport. This was a brief moment of chaos, but I somehow made it out alive all alone. I guess I am growing.