So, I was asked on July 10th if I would like to judge the DMC US Finals at Santos Party House in New York City. I graciously accepted the honor. And since that day July 10, 2009 the day when all of our lives were changed by the DMC New Orleans Battle, I'd been looking forward to flying to NYC and being a part of an institution that has had such a profound influence on my life.
So Delaney takes care of making my reservations and accomodations for the weekend. I fly out of MSY on Northwest Airlines Saturday August 1st, 7:00 A.M. CST, I arrive the same day at 11 A.M. into LGA. Bus from the Airport to the 7 Train into Grand Central Station, check. White House Hostel, 340 Bowery, check. It's an late check in, 3 P.M. but the Hostel is a 17 minute walk from the venue according to Google maps. Should'nt sweat it, no big deal... Doors at Santos at 4 P.M. Seems pretty straight forward.
Yeaaaaahhhhh!!! Plans are made!
The days leading up to the battle end up being pretty hectic. I had all intentions of going to bed early on Friday, so I could be fresh for my flight. Weeellll THAT ISHT DIDN'T HAPPEN!!! Me and Delaney decided to go out drinking at THROWBACK so she could check out the crowd for this Friday's Mash-Up Edition of THROWBACK because she's guest djing and she's the kind of girl that likes to be prepared. In retrospect maybe the Jager shots were a bad idea, but we ended up getting home at around 3:30A.M. Now I remind you that my flight leaves at 7:00, so I need to be at the MSY for at least 6:15, best case scenario, 5:30 but I wasn't checking any bags, so it should be a problem. Right???
So Delaney decides to sleep on the couch so she could "get up", because apparently she sleeps really light on the couch. I sleep in the bed, and I plug my phone on the charger by the couch in the living room.
"Should I set an alarm in the room baby??"
"No, I've got an alarm. I'll wake up."
"Yeah, I'll wake up!!!"
So I went into the bedroom, and I couldn't be bothered to correct the time on the blinking clock that had begun blinking the prior Wednesday after a brief power outage. It takes me about 12 seconds to go to sleep. And when I wake up it appears as if the sun has already risen. I panic, the clock is blinking something completely absurd like 3:38. So I run into the foyer and check the atomic clock. OH SHIT, it's 6:20!!!!!!! I wake Delaney up. It turns out that when her alarm went off, instead of pressing snooze she dismissed the alarm by reflex and went back to sleep. Now we're frantic!
I rush to throw everything in the car and put on my travelling clothes, so I can get there while the plane is boarding. We rush, Delaney is driving... fast!
We both hope against hope that I get there in time to board the plane. I get there at 6:45 so automatic check in is out. I check in at the counter and get my boarding pass and the Northwest Counter girl screams "Hurry!!!" Well I have to wait in the Security Line which isnt very long, so I'm thinking that I'm going to make it. I'm furiously checking my watch in line. Damn! Damn, damn! Hurry up line... So I get through security at like 6:57 and put my shoes on and dash for the gate. I get to the gate at 7:01 and the plane has already backed out of the terminal.
I'm crushed. I rush back to the counter and see if there are any other flights to NYC through the airline. There is a fully booked flight with a layover in Nashville which would put me in NYC at 6:40... NO F*CKING WAY!!! The next flight after that is on Sunday, what good will that to me?? Nothing... I'm going out there to judge, if I can't make it out to judge what's the purpose of me going at all?? I want to go just to be there, but at this point it doesn't even look like I can get on the 11:45 Nashville flight. I am beside myself.
So I begin to run frantically through the airport to the US Airways counter. It seemed that a couple traveling with a young son had missed their flight and possibly could get me on a US Airways flight. Well I go and check, no dice. I could buy a seat but that would be over $800, and I don't have that kind of money to poop out every time I miss a flight. So I rush back to the counter, trying to possibly get on standby, but by the time I get to the counter there are already 5 people in front of me on the waiting list for a booked flight. It's not looking good for the Skratch Man.
All they can do is shake their heads and look at me silly. There's apparently nothing. I explain to the guy at the counter that I have to be in New York for 5:00, and I was under the impression that they would try to help in any way to get me to my destination. So much for assumptions...
So I do a lot of frantic pacing, until I finally make the call to Delaney to come and pick me up. That was one of the hardest calls for me to make because in essence I was giving in. The dream had died.