I know this is a bit long but this is my experience over the 4th of July. If you have time or your day is bad or you hate me...for any of those reasons you should read this.
How was your July 4th?
Mine was interesting.
Everything began Monday night. I was sitting at home after a long day and had just cooked some shrimp pasta sitting outside on our patio just getting settled in to relax before packing and leaving at 6 a.m. for LAX then off to Mobile, AL for a few days of relaxing with my grandfather—who was playing French Horn in the Fairhope symphony—and to see some family I hadn’t seen in 2 years.
I picked up my phone to make a phone call and realized the keys on my Treo decided to stop working thus my phone was locked. No warning. No sticking keys and then broken. It went from working to broken—a sign of things to come. I looked online and realized I had about one hour before the Verizon stores would close and I would have no phone till I got to AL and no way to access my contacts or anything.
So I quickly put my fresh pasta back in the pot and took off for the nearest Verizon store. I arrived and found my limited warranty had run out on my phone but could buy a refurbished one for $50. O.k. fine, I’ll do it. Problem: because the keys wouldn’t work there was no way to transfer the data (contacts, calender, memos, notes, etc.) onto my new(er) phone. I could back up my phone to my computer and then use it to transfer the files to the new(er) phone. I didn’t have my computer. Decision time. It’s 8:30. Do I just get the phone and lose the information I updated since April 14th (the last sync with my computer) OR bust a move home and risk not being able to get the phone because the store would close. I opted for the latter. I made it home, got the sync cable and computer and returned by 8:47. After pulling a rather MacGyver-esque move to unlock my phone involving taking out the battery while holding button and inserting the cable into my computer I finally unlocked it and was able to update the computer. Finally it was all good and I had my phone back and thought that was it.
The next morning I woke up packed and ready for my trip. I hesitated with thought toward carrying on my bag since really I only had a few days’ worth of supplies but there is that annoying 3oz rule and I’ve had to throw out stuff before and I didn’t want to do that again. So I took off for the airport. I got to my off-site parking with time to spare, got to the airport early, checked in on the computers bypassing about 200 people. I really don’t understand why people still wait in lines. I got on my flight and noticed on my ticket I was in 17E. I instantly realized I was in the middle seat and realized the seat changes I made online to a premium exit row seat was futile. I then spotted a woman who was simply too large to be sitting in one seat—literally spilling over the armrests on both sides of the seat. Yep, I’m next to her. So being flanked by a two-seater and some anti-social army sergeant I had nowhere to go. Despite having to type like a Tyrannosaurus Rex or a guy who’s elbows had been surgically fused with his lower rib cage the flight was easy and we landed with plenty of time for me to get to my flight to Mobile.
While waiting for my flight to be pushed back from the 3:30 slot to 4:00, then 4:15, then 5:00 before boarding I stumbled upon this group of guys who looked like frat-tastic 40-year old businessmen. Apparently returning from a business trip or possibly a fishing trip awarded them because their office sold the most sheets of steel or something I was already annoyed with them simply by their brash and immature air about them. You know these guys: overweight (just in the belly) wearing slip-on tasseled loafers, pleated navy too-short shorts, a webbed belt and a random t-shirt with deep sea fish, that they certainly never caught but probably ate, sketched on the back and that was so tight from their belly’s horizontal advances there was a small trampoline area near their sternum. One guy looked like he was going to give birth to a horse. I mean tight belly—in the about to explode sense, not the Victoria Secret-model way. I just felt ashamed and then dismissed them as we were summoned to board the plane.
I had a seat in the very back which was fine with me because it was a small plane with two seats on one side, an aisle and one seat on the other. I had two seats to myself and was thrilled. I looked out the window and saw dark storm clouds but they were very far off so I thought nothing of it. After being delayed a few times already there was one more electrical thing the American Airlines ground staff was inspecting so we’d be up in the air soon. I Embraced my helpless position by calling upon the Tord Gustavsen Trio to calm and relax me via my iPod.
Hmm where have I seen this before? I began to relax when something upsets the experience.
Out of nowhere, the pregnant frat man sprinted to the bathroom and banged on the door till it opened. I thought he had to throw up or something. He emerged relatively quickly and I was really confused. One of his less fratty and yet still annoying friends was one row in front and beckoned him to sit behind him. I screamed to God in my mind to no avail. Prego moved his stuff behind his friend and on my aisle. I turn up my music and turn so I’m looking out the window noticing that the impending storm has crept quickly upon us and was getting much closer.
I closed my eyes and then about one minute later opened them to much commotion. Everyone was leaning out of the their seat and looking down the aisle to inspect what was going on. I was out of the loop and asked the lady in front of me. She didn’t know either. I saw my “friends” at the front of the plane being given a stern reprimand from the stewardess. Then one of the guys came back, picked up his bag and they walked off the plane. Pretty much right as they left the lightening began and shortly after our flight was canceled.
Upon deboarding, I saw a furious red-faced businessman expressing his deep desire to end the lives of my “friends” who evidently were extremely drunk and held up our plane long enough that we couldn’t take off. He even suggested they be brought out and lined up near the jet way so we could each get a few shots in and he’d “finish the job.”
Oh. So that’s what happened.
I go to rebook my flight and see on the radar there are massive thunderstorms all around the East Texas region and the remaining flights to Mobile have been canceled. My luggage will be on the next flight to Mobile and probably beat me there—according to the AA customer service person. Great…so I have my computer, two books and a hat that I can change into. Hm… that limits me. The lady at the baggage counter gives me an overnight kit complete with deodorant wipes (what?), a hair net (because mine was with my luggage), and a toothbrush so small it really could only brush one tooth at a time. Fantastic. I was angry and now you have managed to quell my temper. Way to go AA!
I have to spend the night in Dallas at a hotel that AA only covers half because it was weather and not mechanical issues. Fine. I’m asked what hotel I wanted and said in my haste and annoyance that I’ll take the cheapest. As I was walking away I thought I probably should have said the next to the cheapest…that’s usually the best value. Oh well. I get booked on a flight for Chicago at 8 the next morning that will take me to Mobile so I’m set.
I wait outside and the hotel shuttle picks me up and drops me at Hawthorne Suites—I don’t know what it takes to qualify as a “suite”, bye the way but I don’t think this place had it—and while checking in inquired about a laundry service. This is an excerpt from that conversation:
Me: Hi.
Suites: Hello. How many nights will you be here?
Me: Oh just one night. My flight got cancelled…crazy weather. Hey you guys have a laundry service here?
Suites: Yes, sir.
Me: Great. If I got you my clothes tonight what time could I pick them up?
HS: We could get them to you in three days. Do you want to do that?
Me: Um…no.
I just checked in for one night…only one night. Shouldn’t their answer be simply, “no”?! Whatever. I get my room—not too bad—and go to the only place to eat within walking distance because they don’t drive guests with their shuttle. I walk to Whataburger. Disconcerting to go to place where one day someone was like, “I don’t know what it is? I mean…what is it a burger?” I proceeded to order a chicken fajita and decided to pay the extra 30 cents and bump from the kiddie-cup milkshake to what came out as keg of milkshake. I mean had to be a gallon of milk in this thing. Oh yeah…it is Texas.
I go back to my room and watch Entourage with waves through the picture, which made me think it was illegal HBO. Next to cheapest…next to cheapest.
I awake the following morning excited about the continental breakfast and am met with empty chaffing dishes with hot water because the kitchen is late with the food. I am forced to eat cereal on the shallowest bowls you have ever seen. They might have been saucers, really. So I’m flicking cereal onto my plate, splashing on some milk and licking salt off my wrist before shooting my breakfast. I moved on to the toast because that seemed easier. The toaster only toasted on one side of the bread. That’s not a toaster, bye the way, Hawthorne Suites Hotel. I then grabbed the little pads of jelly that didn’t spread and the knife made of rubber. I’m just pushing the jelly around on my half toasted bread and flipping it. I decided I’d just lay jelly sod on my toast to fill the acreage and go without the spread. It worked quite nicely.
I get on the shuttle and to the airport and don’t have to check in because I already had boarding passes printed yesterday so I hop out of the shuttle and walk right into the security line. That was pretty nice, I might say. I get to my gate with plenty of time and decide to check my seat this time in hopes of avoiding another 17E. I approach the counter and after trying to change my seat am informed I am not even booked on that flight. Yes, I have a boarding pass that allows me complete access to the rest of the airport and yet I’m not on any flight. Hmmm. And they are worried about someone bringing 4 oz of water or toothpaste? Right.
The lady said she can get me to Chicago on a few other flights that are later on. I am not trying to get to Chicago. I am only using Chicago. I don’t care about it. I need the grade and it’s my cheat. It’s the hot girl I date to get back at my ex. I care nothing for the city. Get it? So she puts me on standby for the flight I was already booked on—but not booked on. I get on the flight and make it to Chicago. I then, call it a hunch, check in with the AA gate agent for the Chicago flight to Mobile. Shocker: I’m not booked on that one either. I get booked no problem and finally get to Mobile a day late. It’s been raining for a week straight and is continuing in that fashion. I’m really loving’ LA at this point.
At this point I have been in the process of traveling for nearly 30 hours with my layover and all that. They don’t have my bags but expect it to be in on the 3:30 flight. I give them my number and figure I’ll make the drive back myself (2-hour roundtrip) to get my luggage later that day. It’s now July 4th. Go America…go American Airlines.
I call a number of times Wednesday and the luggage hasn’t arrived. Oh well, at least I’ll still get to see my grandfather play French Horn in the Fairhope 4th of July Extravaganza in front of roughly 20,000 people! That gets called off because of…rain! Damn rain.
Thursday arrives and I’m wearing a clean version of what I have worn the past two days. I still haven’t heard from the Mobile baggage group who said they’d call “the minute my bag arrives.” Finally, after calling a number of times and not getting anyone I reach someone who says they have my bag! Yeah! Granted I’m leaving on a flight the next day at 6:30a.m. but I want my bag in my possession. I am told they can deliver it and I give them the address of my uncle and aunt’s place where I am staying. “It will be there this afternoon or this evening.” Wonderful. The rain dies and finally things seem to be looking up. By nine O’clock I have not heard anything. My phone is about to die and I need my charger or they might call my phone while it’s dead and I have no way to know.
The irony is disgusting.
I finally get in touch with someone, explain my situation to which I’m told he will call the guy who “probably” has my luggage. Honestly, people, honestly. I give him a new number to call me on in case my phone dies. I call him back, per his instruction, after 15 minutes and he says he can’t reach the guy. I also learn that the address I gave them is so new that the phone company didn’t know it existed. I try with futility to get back in touch with them and give them directions. By midnight without bag and without clothes and with rage that only God suppressed I went to bed.
I awoke at 4 a.m. left at 4:30 arriving at the airport to find my bag in the room it potentially never left. I’ll never know. I then got changed out some stuff and rolled the dice again checking it and boarding my plane for Dallas. I got to Dallas without problem and took off for LA. I finally touched down in LA and got to my car. I went home and napped.
Welcome home!
Lessons learned:
1) Buy the travel toothpaste and shampoo and only check bags if absolutely necessary.
2) If privatized airports and airlines work this poorly, imagine if the same people running the DMV had complete control!
3) Nothing is certain
