Ah, we're just waiting for our pilot...

Today James and I were off to Daytona Beach Florida. Our friend Barnes dropped us off at Phoenix Sky Harbour for our flight to Orlando via Houston on her way to work. I have to say that flying Continental wasn't that bad; that is until we reached Houston. When we finally got off the plane, we turned the corner at Houston Bush and found that our flight was delayed two hours. Needing to kill time, James and I headed off to a pub in the airport for some fine fried Texas food. Me being as paranoid as I am, I decided to run out and check our flight status. Good thing I did, the flight moved up to 4:30 from 6:00. We scarfed down the rest of our food and booked it over to our gate. By the time we got there, they were already boarding our rows. What happened next is probably one of the funniest things that I've experienced on an airplane. Over the PA: "Folks, just to give you and update on our status, we're all set and ready to go, ah, we're just waiting for our pilot." I offered my assistance as a private pilot who’s never flown anything larger than a Beech Duchess, but the folks on the Boeing 757-200, were not impressed. After an hour and 45 minutes of bumpy Gulf of Mexico flying, we were in Orlando. I grabbed the bags, waited in the baggage claim for James who was picking up the car, and was surprised to see him pull up in a Chevy PT Cruiser (they were out of our size and no we didn't pay extra for it). Those who know us will find the image of us driving a PT Cruiser very amusing. After a good hour of driving we arrived in (and I use the term loosely) beautiful Daytona Beach Shores. More about ERAU Daytona Beach tomorrow.