Act I: "We have a situation here"

"Oh no I'm not getting off this plane! I absolutely refuse!" I boldly screeched with uncharacteristic defiance to the Delta controller, my fists planted firmly on my hips. She didn't respond, she just closed her eyes once, blinking back a very bored, disgusted glare. She raised the walkie-talkie to her surly lips, "I need a Delta manager. We have a situation here. I have a passenger who is refusing to get off the plane."

"Dang straight, I'm not getting off this plane!" I huffed as I stepped over my row mate to reclaim my 3-C window seat. Several passengers seated around me joined my plight, "Yeah, don't make her get off!"

As much as I enjoyed putting on a show for the entire plane's amusement, I sat back in my seat shaking - a little because I was afraid they would make me get off, and a little because I was afraid of how I would react if I got the boot.

My emotions were frazzled from the weekend's hour-long phone calls with Delta - now numbering four or five. The calls began friendly and thankful enough; I remember telling the first operator how much I appreciated her help, and the second operator I'm sorry for sounding so irritated - that I know the cancellation mess is not his fault. But it was around the third or fourth cancellation-prompting call when I lost it. My talking turned to ranting turned to tears in practically the same breath, and I hung up the phone for the last time with the Delta operator consoling me, "I'm sorry, honey. We'll get you home the best we can."

So as I now sat on the plane, awaiting my fate and planning my next act in the drama that was unfolding, I felt shaky with the same nerves I suppose any actress who is about to deliver the climatic scene would feel - I did have a plane full of people watching me!

I nervously turned my ticket over and over in my hand as I replayed the events of the day - waking to another cancelled flight, spending $60 on cab fare to JFK airport although my rescheduled flight was already listed as delayed, waiting four hours in an airport full of stranded travelers, stepping on a guy napping on the floor, skipping through the gate like I had the golden ticket when my flight was finally called. And now this - the plane wouldn't take off until the weight issues were resolved...until I got off the plane!

I was this close to finding any passenger whose weight exceeded my measly 134 pounds and insisting they get off, when three Delta crew members walked up the aisle and exited the plane, giving up their seats because they had boarded as passengers for a free ride to Charlotte.

Admittedly, I was a little disappointed that I didn't have to perform the "desperately clutching to my seat as the Delta authorities try to drag me away" showstopper I had planned, but as the doors closed and the plane prepared for take off, a quick check of the time revealed there was sure to be an Act II in this getting home drama...there was no way this plane would land in Charlotte in time for my connection to Birmingham.