The Trip From Hell That Was

Learning from yesterdays experience J & I arrived at the airport even earlier than the day before. We arrive at 1:30 for a 4:40 flight. Things were looking like they were getting off to a good start since the line at the ticket counter was not as long as it was the day before. Appearances can be deceiving I guess. After 1 hour and 15 minutes in line, without moving forward so much as an inch, one of the ticket agents shouts over the growing crowd “Are there any passengers in line for the 3:40 flight to Las Vegas with service on to San Francisco?” About 30 people in line both in front and behind us raise their hands. She asks these people to come to the first class line. All available agents then draw only from this line until these 30 passengers are ticketed and their bags are checked. This takes an hour. The line finally starts to move, when they ask once more for these Vegas fliers and about 5 more late comers at the back of the line raise their hands. They get ushered to the front of the line and are served. It is now closing in on 4:15 and I see a repeat of yesterday coming on. Then the ticket agent with the load voice announces that the 4:40 flight to Phoenix with service on to San Diego has been delayed and will now depart at 7:30 pm.

I know that “What in the holy F*&$^ is going on” escaped several other lips than just my own. At least now I wasn’t so stressed about standing in the frickin line for another 45 minutes. We get to the front where the agent gives us the choice of getting on the 7:30 flight which would then connect us to the SD flight departing phoenix at 9:50 OR taking a 6:39 flight with another airline. We think about this but since we’ve been in the f&%$ line for over 3 hours we do not want to go stand on someone else’s line too. So she tickets us and advises J not to check her small suitcase since it probably won’t make the connection in Phoenix to SD. (Turns out to have been good advice.) Fine, she gives us two coupons for dinner at the Chili’s in the airport and we move on to security. Once again cute sandals set of detector. (Yes wearing same sandals [Nay, same exact outfit] as yesterday because as you will recall all of my earthly possessions not currently en route to France, are waiting for me [I fervently hope] in San Diego) Get wand treatment, unpack ‘precious’, yada, yada, yada.

Eat quick dinner at Chili’s make way to gate and sit in suspiciously empty gate area. I tell Jess to unpack 'precious', we'll plug her in and watch a movie until we board.

Meanwhile the gate agent is walking over. It turns out she's walking over to inform us that our flight has once again been delayed, that the plane we are waiting for will arrive at 9:00 pm and that we will board shortly after that. Hmmm, this is a problem I think since cannot make 9:50 connection to SD in phoenix if we leave Chicago at 9:30? I say “We have a 9:50 connection to San Diego”

“Oh, well you’ll miss that” she says. (No shit genius, really!?) Pause and count to 10 wait for her to elaborate, propose solution…no just going to make that stupid statement and let it lie... Ok I guess she is.

“So then what are our options” I say through gritted teeth while trying not to sound like I’m speaking through gritted teeth. J now holding down fist of death for me, as I’ve given up all attempts at controlling it, and begining to repack 'precious'.

“Well, we could book you into a hotel in Phoenix and you could catch an early connection tomorrow or I could book you two seats on the non-stop American Airlines flight that leaves at 6:39”

Well seeing as it is now 6ish I don’t see how we can go back out and start over now. I say this and she assures me that “Oh, no, I’ll book the tickets and all you have to do is go see a GATE agent for boarding passes. You won’t have to go back out and through security again.

“Fine.” She gives me this piece of paper that I am supposed to present to the GATE AGENT for boarding passes.

Now mind you we are at the end of the tentacle that is terminal 2, gate E12 and must now travel to terminal 3, gate H10. O’Hare has no moving sidewalks in these terminals and we are carrying my laptop and case, J’s rolling suitcase and her carry on bag. We pay $2.00 for one of those baggage carts and boogie. We reach gate E12 with 10 minutes to spare only to be told by the GATE AGENT (who turned out to actually be a pilot) that NO indeed we do have to go back out to the TICKET AGENT for boarding passes.

I know that this poor man saw the murder lurking in my eyes, I’m sure I saw him recoil in fear when I glared at him. He says “Look, not a big deal, leave your daughter and all the bags here so you don’t have to check them back through security. Run out there jump in front of the line and then nip back through security they'll wait.” My jaw must have dropped to the floor, he smiles at me and I get moving.

I run to the front of the airport, cut in line (a line that was only about 5 people long) (how is it possible that this airline could have things so together and the other not, hmm…) get our boarding passes, go to security where of course the f*#^& sandals set off the detectors AGAIN, I get pulled aside and 'wanded' blah blah blah. Get to the plane, gate agent takes tickets and we run on board.

The Trip From Hell That Wasn't

Leaving for Cal at 8:40 in the AM. J gets me to the airport by 6:30 am. I get on line at the AMERICA WEST ticket counter. The line is forever long. I am on that line for about an hour and a half. When I get to the counter the ticket agent tells me that my suitcase is 10lbs. overweight and then looks at me expectantly. What am I supposed to do, open it right there and remove ten pounds of what, clothes? And then do what with these extra 10 pounds of clothing? “Ok…” “Well it’s $50 extra for overweight luggage” “Well, ok, I can’t take it home at this point.” (Yes, okay I was a bit snotty but I’d been in line for over an hour and still had to get through security. Besides that, it works for me, the bitchy thing) “You, know what” she says “I’m going to waive the fee because we are so far behind schedule". I thank her as she takes my suitcase, tags it and sends it on its way to San Diego. (see, for some reason bitchy works for me)

Next hurdle, security. I wore sandals because when they make you take off your shoes pre-security there is no place on the post-security side to sit and put on and tie your tennis shoes. However, my cute little sandals have metal decorative elements on the tops and they set off the metal detector. This flags me as trouble. Now I have to take of my shoes show the bottoms of my feet (do terrorists strap bombs to the soles of their feet? Can you conceal anything there? I can see checking shoes but the soles of my feet?) Anyway, then I have to unpack ‘precious’ and open it up to prove it’s a real laptop. By the time I reach the gate it is 8:49. The gate area is empty and the door leading to the gangway is closed. No, wait…um the plane is actually pulling away. The gate agent (BITCH) looks at me and asks for my name, I tell her and she says “Well, Ms. Walters, we paged you several times and you did not respond to the page.” Ok, let’s recap, I checked in and got a boarding pass, which told them I was there right? So it also tells them what time it was when I finally got to check in right? So what did she think I did, stop for a coffee, maybe a nap, “Well, you can’t hear the overhead pages very well in security, which is where I was, you knew I’d checked in!” “Well Ms. Walters we can put you on standby for the later flights today, but they are all full or over booked”. (Fist of death having trouble staying at my side) There were three other people standing there at the desk who also missed the flight. 3 witnesses are the only things that saved that bitches life. Our seats were given away to other stand-by fliers. I rescheduled the flight for the next day at 4:40 pm when J is flying out. We had originally been unable to get seats on the same flight, but now apparently, miraculously, they have seats…or are overbooking again…? Well at least my suitcase made the flight…yes that’s right, my checked bag is now on its merry way to San Diego without me. Let me rephrase, my checked bag with everything I own that is not currently on it's way to France, is now on its merry way to San Diego without me.

I called J, who was home by then, and asked her to come back and get me. America West, yes America West. Remember that name.