The flight number was a tell-tale sign of oddity: 9805. A four digit number starting with a 9, attached to plane leaving 30 minutes after another departure to the same city. Yup, this was an orphan flight. It was perhaps not such a big surprise. The night before, thunderstorms shut down the east coast. I remember standing in a conference room on the 34th floor watching unprepared commuters scurry for cover. The rain was so thick, I could see the wind sweeping waves through the air below.

The people at LaGuardia were a hint too: they all looked tired as they commiserated to one another about the adventures. "I've been trying to get out since yesterday morning," a man in a Pearl Jam t-shirt told his neighbor. While I wasn't delayed, I was trying to get an earlier flight out to Chicago to beat the thunderstorms. I was #32 on the standby list. "There are only 7 seats on the plane," the agent told me. "So, I wouldn't wait around if I were you."

Luckily, there was always 9805 leaving 30 minutes afterwards. An orphan flight, by definition, never sold its seats, so if anyone was getting on it, it would be standby passengers. I left the mess at gate C4 and cosied up next to the podium at C9. Fifteen minutes later, I was sipping orange juice in first class.

The best thing to do during a delay situation is to know your options. Before going to the airport, I had checked which flights had made it into LaGuardia the night before (and therefore, how many planes there would be around to fulfill the morning's flight schedule). Knowing how many flights out of the airport were cancelled the night before also would tell me what the lines at the airport and loads on the plane would be like. It might go without saying, but check the weather too!

And, last tip: never, ever just stand in line to get rebooked. Usually, I'll stand in the long lines and dial into the reservation center at the same time. By the time I get up to the desk, I'm already rebooked and they just need to issue my boarding pass.