The Dean and I ended our interview at 5:05 pm and walked back to his office so he could gather his things before we headed to the airport. Upon entering the office suite, the assistant commented that we'd better get on the road ASAP because news reports were that the highway was backed up, but not sure in which direction. Moments later another assistant alerted us that the back ups were in the opposite direction, but not wanting to hit any additional delays, we headed out immediately.
There is about a 3 mile stretch between the school and the highway with the traffic that normally wouldn't be too backed up, even with rush hour traffic.
Unfortunately this wasn't a normal day.
We crawled slowly for nearly the entire 3 miles, taking approximately 45 minutes to go that far. I'm desperately trying to stay calm, cool and collected because the Dean is freaking out enough for the both of us. I figured this was an extension of the interview and I would show calm under pressure. While inching through traffic, the Dean called the assistant, the other Dean and his wife to a) try to find out what the traffic problem was; and b) see if he could get someone to start looking at later flights to Boston.
Eventually we spotted some emergency lights, although we couldn't tell what the issue was. We finally arrived at the last intersection before the on-ramp to the highway only to find the two lanes of traffic were being funneled into basically half a lane and the soft shoulder dividing the road. Had I not been in the car with a potential employer, I totally would have taken pictures of what I saw next: an SUV facing the wrong direction, a bumper and a boat.
None of these things were attached to each other anymore.
From what I could tell no one was injured, which is good. Because the spectacle of seeing all of that detached from itself was pretty crazy. Although I couldn't enjoy it for too long (interviewing and all) and the next thing I know the Dean has the pedal to the metal and we're doing like 80+ on the highway. And my flight is scheduled to leave in 45 minutes. He's frantically apologizing and giving me a game plan of how I need to run to the kiosk to check in, but the kiosk won't let you check in if you're within 30 minutes of your flight, and then I should push myself through security and he'll drop me off and then park and come in and I should call him as soon as I get through security to see if I will make the flight because if not then he'll stay and help me find another flight.
All the while I'm just exuding calm on the outside, even though in my head I'm freaking out thinking, "I JUST WANT TO BE ABLE TO GO HOME TONIGHT. And I really want to take these heels off."
He pulls up to the terminal and I get out, grab my bag, say a terrible good bye for an interview, but given the circumstances I have 34 minutes to make my flight!
I run inside and luckily am able to check in on the kiosk. In line for the first part of security (the check your ID against your boarding pass stage), I kick off my heels, open my bag and frantically search for my flats, which I find and begin feel better. Once through security stage one, I head to the screening line (security stage 2) where I finally get a chance to turn on my phone and call Dave. Since I had all of my jewelry off and forgot to look at the time before I dialed Dave, I now had know idea what time it was.
Me: Hi, I'm in line for security because I just got to the airport because I was in traffic hell. I hope I'll be able to get on the plane.
Dave: Uh, ok.
Me: I'll call you if I miss the flight. If you don't hear from me, assume I got on the plane and come pick me up as scheduled.
Dave: What time are you supposed to land again?
(I'll stop here. Seriously?)
So I hang up with Dave and the sweet couple in front of me offer to let me go in front of them since I'm in a rush. (People in the South are so nice.) I thanked them profusely and dropped my belongings all into one of those grey bins for the scanners. My carry-on bag, my purse, my suit jacket and my shoes. There is a family in front of me with 4 kids and they are little so they are having trouble getting their attention to go through the metal detectors. Then it's my turn. But I can't go in the regular metal detector. I have to use the body scanner. (Probably because the TSA agent thought I was hot and just wanted to get a naked photo of me. Did I mention I left my rights outside the airport? /vent) So of course that takes longer.
When they finally clear me through security, a fleeting thought goes through my mind to just take the whole bin and run to the gate. But I don't. Instead, I throw my carry-on over my shoulder, grab my purse, jacket and shoes and just start running. No, the shoes never made it to my feet. I barely had time to look and make sure I was headed toward the right gate and thank you RDU for putting the gates in order from smallest to largest, unlike other airports I've been through (since it turns out my gate was 7).
As I'm running through the airport, I pass a couple headed in the opposite direction. The woman turns to the man and says, "She's late," in a real sarcastic tone, but also amused so it didn't make me want to stop and punch her and say, "No, I'm not late, I just like to run around airports without shoes on because I'm crazy."
I get to my gate and the gate attendant is just beginning to board the first batch of people. I catch my breath, put on my shoes, and
I do (yay!) but because I'm paranoid, I don't stop to get a soda and am terribly parched from interviewing for 5 hours, sitting in a car in traffic in the sun for a hour and 15 minutes and running through the airport (barefoot).
But I got on the plane on time.
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