Perfect Storm

Last night after the interview day Chad, my host, made dinner and we watched the evening news. It rained pretty much all day yesterday and as the temperatures continued to fall with the daylight-rain turned to ice. Scary stuff. Scary enough that, of course, the local news folk were hysterical about "the worst storm since Mark Wahlberg and George Clooney died in that one with a boat and a decent sound track". Well, they did freak out.Turns out it wasn't entirely unwarranted. 

As my ride to the airport and I drove north on the freeway, there were more than several cars off of the road covered in a thick sheet of ice. As we approached the airport, I knew there was no way planes could be landing on this stuff. Turns out that prediction was true. Chris dropped me at the airport and gave me the good luck look as well as the obligatory- "call me if anything happens." I went straight to the United desk and saw my flight listed as cancelled. Perfect. So I do the dance with the woman behind the desk and she tells me that I've been automatically booked on the next available flight; one leaving tomorrow. Then she informs me that that particular flight is also likely to be cancelled as it's leaving is contingent on having a plane land tonight. This is like 11 am.

The friendly woman behind the desk makes a few calls and tells me that the nearest hotel still has openings and a shuttle that is willing to brave the conditions. So I take it, make a phone call to Chad my host, and within a few minutes I find out that UArkansas Department of Psychology will be paying for my hotel and food. How sweet is that? I get a call from the professor I have applied to study with and he assures me that all will be taken care of- just not to go "hawg wild". A very appropriate warning here in Razorback territory. This small, funny detail will prove to have some real irony later on.

So I check into the hotel which is only like 10 minutes away from the airport (as opposed to Fayetteville which, with the weather, is more like 50 minutes). It's great. Simple and clean. You have to realize that I've been staying with a student who is a smoker and has a cat and I've been a little bit sick. This place feels like a spa. Not to mention I have it all to myself. Now it's like noon. I'm hungry.

I call downstairs to ask about the food situation. Apparently there is no food service in the hotel, but there a few remaining hot pockets and bags of pretzels for purchase. Yum. I'm told that Pizza Hut was heard to be open. I try them and get the busy signal the first twenty times. Then the business guy I saw at the airport comes down the hall to rub in the fact that he has apparently gotten through to the Hut with no problem and has a medium pepperoni on its way. He kindly pours lemon juice on the wound by mentioning that he'd be willing to part with a piece or two. Whatever dude. Now comes the fun part. Tom, the manager, comes out from behind the desk and mentions that he has to run into town to the bank and if I'd like I could find some food in town. Perfect. I jump in with Tom and we're off.

Only thing is that, oh yeah, there's like a solid sheet of ice on the road. Well, maybe not solid. Actually there were some pretty well established ruts- but sheet of ice makes a better story. I let Tom know that I've been in a bad accident on ice after I notice him start to drive like he's on a golf course in a golf cart. He corrects himself and slows down. He tells me there's a couple of different options: there are the usual fast food names and then there's this Arkansas-specific pizza chain called Jim's Razorback Pizza. Perfect. I'm totally craving some good 'za. I look the menu over and see a pizza that's called, no shit, "hawg wild". It's too perfect. I get the pleasure of hearing myself say the words,"Large Hawg Wild please." Awesome. 

So I've now spent the majority of the day picking off this pizza, snacking on oranges and croissants (if you can call them that) I picked up at the grocery store while on my trip with Tom, and watching a mixture of college hoops and the Australian Open. Right now Serena Williams looks like she's gonna lose which is sweet. And I'm just soaking up the good life. 

I know that everything will work out tomorrow with flights. I just hope the flight leaves tomorrow. As much fun as it was to do nothing but eat pizza and watch sportscenter all day, I'm ready to be somewhere I can go for a run- back in the Northwest.

Serena Williams is lame.