After spending a pleasant final day here in Boston I arrived at the airport in plenty of time for my 4:45 flight to Houston, Texas. The weather has been perfect and there appear to be no obvious delays or problems today, that’s a welcome change given my recent run of delayed flights and even more delayed luggage.

I had already checked in my luggage earlier this morning and blew off the opportunity to jump an earlier flight in preference to spend a relaxed final day in Boston enjoying the city. Upon returning to the airport I had plenty of time to make my way through security avoiding interactions with the oh-so-charming folk of the TSA. Gate 25 is the first one past security, it couldn’t be more convenient. I take a seat near the window where I can plug my laptop into the wall and check my email before the flight. I’ll be in Houston in time for dinner.

“Ladies and gentlemen, flight 383 to Houston will be somewhat delayed due to an equipment problem.” The crackled voice of the gate agent breaks bad news to the gathered crowd who release a collective groan. “We expect the plane to arrive here at around 6:30 to 6:45 whereupon we will do our best to turn it around and have you out of here as fast as we can.”

Shit!

Now I am having a sense of humor failure. I’m sat here in a ferociously air-conditioned airport wondering if I am somehow cursed when it comes to air travel. A quick scan of the airport departures screen shows all flights as on-time, all that is, except mine.

My new arrival time is yet to be confirmed, but the gate attendant who has all the personality of a potato informs me that it will be “Some time after 10 o’clock.”

“After 10 o’clock but before…” I leave the sentence open to he can complete it, but he just stares at me revealing the thought complexity of a goldfish. Eventually he breaks the silence. “Yes sir, sometime after 10 o’clock.”

“But hopefully before Jesus returns?” I respond, but my sarcasm is lost on the gate agent who continues to look vacant.

My thoughts now turn to my luggage. My one nondescript plain black item of luggage that would be small enough to carry on if not for the liquids contained in my toiletry bag, is probably well on it’s way to Mumbai or Mexico by now. I won’t be in the slightest bit surprised if I am left as the lone person standing next to an empty baggage carousel in Houston later tonight.

Yes I know, it could be worse. There are people who will find themselves stuck in Houston tonight after missing connecting flights, but thier misery doesn’t make me feel any better. I’m delayed, I’m always delayed, and no matter how convenient my direct flight is, it’s still inconvenient to be sitting here shivering in an uncomfortable airport lounge chair.