The sad task of telling us passengers that the flight had been delayed fell to a teensy fellow who was swimming in his maroon colored United Airlines uniform. His child sized hand gripped the mic and he whispered, Good eve...(nervous cough)...ning. I'm sorry to tell you that this flight has been del..."
And before he could spit out the full word, a robust woman wearing a crocheted vest and a crazy look in her eyes, dashed to his desk and shouted, "I MUST GET TO LOS ANGELES!!!! GET ME ON THE NEXT FLIGHT OUT!"
What on earth, thought every single person in the entire airport. The lady was clearly flipping her emotional wig. It was hard to watch but impossible not to hear. (When I say she was yelling, I'm doing a disservice to the yellers of the world, because this was off the charts loud.)
She then turned on her sensible heel and grabbed the handles of a nearby wheelchair. It's occupant, a dazed looking, silver fox.
"HE NEEDS OXYGEN!" she shrieked at pretty much the surrounding Chicago area.
Stop hogging it, I thought cruelly. But on and on she went until the poor little United employee just about evaporated into a puddle of nerves and polyester.
(Here's an important point - I'd spotted these two grifters earlier that evening. They were arguing with a skycap who was insisting that the hundred dollar bill they'd given him was a fake. Neither of them looked to be in need of a wheelchair, or additional air.)
So, due to the apparent lengthy delay and the late hour, I thought it best that I retreat to the United Club for a free cocktail and some stale nuts. (I've been a long standing member since a 78 hour delay in Omaha. Don't ask.)
As I pushed open the door, imagine my surprise when I spotted the screaming Mimi and her chair-bound cohort arguing feverishly with a United Club employee. The two of them were insisting that they be allowed entrance, for free, immediately, despite not being members.
"HE NEEDS TO LAY DOWN!!!! ARE TRYING TO KILL HIM?!!!! HE NEEDS OXYGEN!!!!! HELP US!!!! I AM BEGGING YOU!!!!!"
Sweet mercy, I thought, she's got stamina. And so did, Joanne, as it turns out, the cool as a cucumber United Club employee. Joanne didn't bat a lash or break a sweat. I felt like she deserved a trophy, a raise, and a tiara.
It went something like this:
Joanne: From what I understand, neither of you were booked on the flight to Los Angeles, nor on any United Airlines flight. That being said, I cannot allow you entrance to the United Club.
Screaming Mimi: YOU ARE HEARTLESS!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME?!!!!!
(Side note: We could all hear her just fine.)
Joanne: May I ask why you are seeking medical attention in a lounge?
Screaming Mimi: HE NEEDS TO LAY DOWN!!!
Joanne: Despite it being called a lounge, there are no actual sofas. I'm going to contact a physician and have you two escorted immediately to our medical facility.
(Joanne smoothly picks up the phone.)
Screaming Mimi: WE DON'T HAVE TIME!!!!! JUST LET US IN SO HE CAN LAY DOWN!!!!
Joanne: (into phone) I need to speak to the doctor.
Screaming Mimi: OXYGEN!!!!!
Joanne: (calmly to Mimi) Someone will be here shortly. To help your sick father.
Joanne didn't bother to hide her disbelief. At this point it was clear who was winning, so Mimi reconsidered her approach.
(I should add that the silver fox was silent during the entire exchange. His role, it seemed, was to appear as sick and weak as possible. He was doing a stellar job.)
Screaming Mimi: (speaking softly) I'm so sorry, my nerves are getting the better of me. I think I just need to sit down and gather my thoughts.
Joanne: And get your father his oxygen.
Screaming Mimi: Of course. OF COURSE!
Joanne: Where's his tank?
Screaming Mimi: (a lengthy pause) We don't have one...for personal use.
Joanne: That's odd.
Screaming Mimi: NO IT'S NOT!!!!! ARE YOU TRYING TO MURDER MY FATHER?!!!! ANSWER ME!!!!! MY GOD!!!! WILL THIS NIGHTMARE NEVER END?!!!!
As it turns out, it ended swiftly, because some medical personnel arrived and whisked these two lunatics away.
A while later, after finishing my book and a bowl of bad cashews, I headed back to the terminal to board the plane.
And again, imagine my surprise when I spotted Screaming Mimi and her sidekick. On the plane. Sitting happily in first class. Not an oxygen tank in sight.
As I walked past them, two things struck me - First, Mimi's father seemed to have made a swift recovery because his cheeks were simply rosy as he stood to hand his jacket to the flight attendant and casually accept his complimentary glass of champagne. And second, the two of them were, in the absolute truest sense, flying the friendly skies.
