We Almost Missed Our Flight to Argentina

We almost missed our flight to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I checked the tickets before we left Sioux Falls, SD and noted that the connection was tight. It appeared that we would arrive in Dallas just as our next flight boarded. Our flight attendant mentioned that we'd have to take the sky tram to another terminal, so both of us were relieved and impressed when we deboarded in Dallas and saw a personal escort holding an orange sign labelled "Buenos Aires." Sweet. I don't remember his name, but he pretty much held our hands up the escalator, onto the sky tram, down the escalator, through the walkway leading directly to our gate. He said that we had plenty of time, so we used the restroom and shared a piece of chicken from Pop-Eyes. We watched as everyone boarded, then made our way to the gate at the back of the line. "Excellent timing," we thought to ourselves. As the attendant scanned our passport, he asked "Did you pay your reciprocity?"
Me: "No. Can we do that now?"
Attendant: "Weren't you listening? I announced it over the loud speaker. You have to purchase it at the Club."
Me: "Oh, where's the Club?"
Attendant: Pointing, "Over there."
Me: "Over where?"
Attendant: Pointing again like it was obvious, "Over there. But this flight is leaving. I don't think you're going to make it in time."
Have you ever seen the show "Amazing Race"?  It was a lot like that. Mark and I ran, full out, at the airport. We were like rats in a maze, being timed. I was stressed.  After running back and forth down the aisle, we found the Admiral's Club. The receptionist informed us that there would be a $99 fee for using the club. Fine. Charge us. Get us on that flight. The receptionist offered a discount. She charged for only one person. After the transaction was done, we were ready to race back to the gate, but she pointed us up to the 5th floor for further processing. I started to worry. We were the last ones boarding. How long would they hold the flight for us? Mark took my ticket and ran upstairs while I ran back to the gate to beg them to hold the flight. As I stood, alone, at the gate, I heard my phone ring.
"Honey, they need your passport up here on the 5th floor."
"Be right there!" I started running back to the Club.
We took the painfully slow elevator up from 3rd to 5th floor and ran up to the counter where another attendant pointed us around the corner and down the hall to a man waving at the back. We sprinted. The man told us to drop our bags and type quickly on a computer terminal. We opened an account and made another $160 visa payment (per person). This was adding up, but we wanted on that flight, so we typed as fast as we could and forked over the funds. The documents printed and we sprinted again down the hall to the elevator and out the Club door. Outside, a man from the airline gate was waiting and sprinted with us back to the gate. As the attendant scanned our boarding pass, I quipped, "Well, at least we won't destroy American Airline's record of having the least on time departures." Alas, we were the last to board, and made our flight to Argentina.

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