Act II: "Don't cry, it's going to be okay"

Sure enough, we landed in Charlotte exactly one hour after my scheduled flight to Birmingham had departed. And there were no more flights to Birmingham that night. I stood at the ticket gate with a brand new audience staring silently at me - the slightly disheveled New Yorker - and the Delta agent - the slightly agitated worker.

Take 1: I'm irate. Everything concerning Delta is unacceptable. "Someone HAS to do something. I HAVE to get on a flight tonight. Or give me a hotel room. Or give me a voucher. Delta owes me!" I slap my hand on the counter for emphasis.

The slightly agitated worker just looks at me. Says nothing. Turns to the Delta agent next to her - the slightly caring worker. "Can you deal with her?" she demands more so than asks.

I fume. I open my mouth to explain my situation to the slightly caring worker, and I start with a forceful, "This is unacceptable!" but I pause.

Take 2: I'm pitiful. I open my mouth to demand a seat on any plane headed anywhere near Birmingham, but all that comes out is tears. I choke out enough information so the slightly caring worker is able to understand where I'm trying to go, and then I rest my head on the counter and cry - okay, sob - while he searches flights for me. With head down, tears pouring and shoulders shaking, I remember about the silent, packed audience sitting just to my left. I do not dare look to see their reaction to my performance; these tears are not acting, they are real.

The slightly caring worker confirms he has a seat for me on a U.S. Airways flight to Atlanta, but it's leaving in 10 minutes, I need to be at the gate right now. I half expected him to slap me a few times to shake me out of my tears, but instead he spoke to me like I was a little girl, writing out the gate number, giving me explicit directions on how to get there, advising me to not dawdle but run to the gate, and saying, "Don't cry, it's going to be okay. Now, did you get all that?" I nodded and sniffled, and sheepishly thanked him and my audience with a quick bow of my head as I turned and ran down the terminal with luggage in one hand and cell phone in the other - "Mama, Daddy - can you come pick me up in Atlanta in about an hour and a half?"