My biggest travel horror story took place about 6 years ago. DH and I had been dating for several months and he invited me to spend a weekend in Pennsylvania with him and the couple who introduced us. She was celebrating her birthday (she celebrates her birthday for a week! my kind of woman) The plan was to take in all the historic sites in PA and go to Atlantic City.Anyway, I was really nervous because I'd never flown before, was going away for the first time with (now) DH and was just antsy about the whole thing. Just getting through security was a nightmare. Each time we went through sensors, I set off the alarm (this didn't stop at the airport mind you, when we went to see the Liberty bell... set them off there too... went somewhere else in PA ... set them off there wicked weird). So after setting off all the alarms & securing my place on potentially hazardous people list, we finally boarding the airplane. DH had splurged on first class tickets and it was really nice. I sat by the window, took my dramamine and was ready. Mind you I have been to the restroom at the point a minimum of 10 times in the time it took us to make it through the airport. We begin to slowly taxie down the runway and we.... stop. I'm cook once I realize this happens on a pretty regular basis. We chit chat, I enjoy looking out the window, my dramamine starts to kick in and... for all of about 30 mintues, things are good. Okay so after then... things get... well... interesting. I MUST go to the restroom. The stewardess won't have it. I explain that I promise to be quick... no go. After another 15 minutes, I inform her that the mess she will have cleaning up my seat will be much more involved than the one she will have to clean if I'm actually IN the restroom should the plan actually take off with me in there. She snickers and says that the seatbelt sign is still on and I must remain in my seat until it either goes off or we are airborne. This continues for another 20 minutes or so. Finally, as she is passing out nuts (HELLO she's walking here), I request a Depends instead. At this point, I've come to the realization that DH will never speak to me again once the weekend is over... I'm pretty okay with that as long as I make it OFF the plane with clean pants! FINALLY the stewardess allows me to go to the restroom and the plane takes off probably 10 minutes after that. DH was actually pretty cool with it. (About a year later I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease and it all makes a LOT more sense now but then... it was... HORRIBLE) The actual flight was great, I loved the clouds and views, it was simply the delay on the tarmac with no access to the restroom with the possability of having an accident that made this my travel horror.
