Fate is stubborn

It seems like every time I have to catch a flight, something happens either at security, baggage check, or elsewhere that delays me and makes me almost miss my flight. I hate the feeling of being rushed in the airport, as the possibility of missing a flight and potentially blowing a lot of money is very stressful. Consequently, when I was in Chicago for a political science conference earlier this week, I decided to play it on the cautious side and leave for the airport three hours early. On arriving at the airport, I stretched my legs out and relaxed for about half an hour, feeling relaxed about the fact that, for the first time in a very long time, I was sitting in the terminal with plenty of time to catch my flight.

I noticed that American Airlines did not have any kiosks nearby, so I approached a Delta airlines employee about information on how I could check in. After showing her my ticket, she gave me a confused look and informed me that I was at the wrong airport.

Shoot.

I ran with all of my luggage to the train terminal, where I took a train back into the center of Chicago, switched lines, and took the route to the correct airport. I made it to my terminal with about ten minutes to spare. So, the moral of the story is: when you are in a large city that could plausibly have multiple airports, you do not necessarily take the subway line that leads to a picture of a little yellow plane at the end.