On Sunday, we got to the airport at around 9:00 a.m. for an 11:15 a.m. flight. We stood in line to check our bags, got to the little check-in kiosk and had “Your flight is not found, check with an agent”. An agent tells us that our flight was coming in from the east coast, and there will be a plane change - so it hasn’t updated into the system yet. She checks our luggage, but can’t issue any of us boarding passes. She tells us to go over to the Carry-On Only kiosk, wait until about 10:00 or 10:15, and the flight should be updated by then. We can print our tickets and be on our merry way.
We sit by the kiosk. We watch a bunch of other people who are supposed to be on our flight going through the same motions.
At 10:00, we try the kiosk - no go. We do this until about 10:20, when I tell my husband we’d better freaking figure something out.
Around then, I noticed a ticket agent taking a whole mess of the travelers intended for our flight to another ’special’ line. We get in this line. While in this line (which isn’t looking anymore promising), they announce that the flight has opened up and the self-check in kiosks should be working.
Nope.
We are guided to a woman at a new kiosk near the self-check in line. She’s supposed to check ID’s there. When asked what we want, we say we need boarding passes. She says she’s out of ticket printing paper, and cannot help us.
I think it’s 10:40 by now.
We get back into the original line, and I am pissed. I am freaking out, actually. We still have to go through security, and the line looks really long. We have carry ons, stroller, small child and a bunch of crap to contend with.
In the original line, the same agent we had to start with says she can now print our boarding tickets. But SHE has no ticket printing paper. And off she goes fast like a gazelle to get some. And by fast, I mean SLOW AS HELL. She just sauntered. She poked around. She looked around. She talked to someone else.
Finally, she gets back - and I’m pretty sure if I could shoot lasers from my eyes, she’d be a pile of ashes.
I understand the layoffs and the trouble with the airlines. I get all of that. But what annoys me is the paper thing … how do you NOT have tickets ready to go? I mean, isn’t that part of the job?
But whatever.
We haul ass over to security, we throw everything onto the conveyor belt, we run through, we load up our stuff and run to the farthest damn gate ever. And the boarding sign says, “The 11:15 flight will be boarding at 11:40″. Say what?
Thanks for the fire alarm, people.
Had they said, “But the flight isn’t taking off at 11:15, it’s delayed long enough you have plenty of time”, it would have been helpful.
Help. There’s that word again!!
Once at the gate, we determine we have some time to eat, find the deli, sit. I turn to use my phone, and guess what? It’s GONE!
I call the phone from my husband’s. I put my phone up to every bag we have. I turn my purse and laptop bag inside out. No luck. I run back to security. They can’t find it, but give me the lost and found number.
And here, I throw a fit. Normally, my husband is the fit-thrower. But today, I took the fit-throwing and ran with it, my friends.
Husband called, suspended the cell phone, told me it was okay, we’d get a new one, and kept saying, “it was just a cell phone”. But it made me SO mad. As a mom, you are supposed to keep track of everything: your shit, his shit, the kid’s shit. When they say, “do you have ….”, the answer is always yes. Some women make this look easy. I felt like a total failure for some reason on Sunday.
We get on the plane, and because our tickets were split up 2 and 1, he gives me the single and sends me away to read a book, listen to my MP3 player, and watch this stupid moron in the seat across from me break every rule the flight attendants give a person.
But more on him later.
In the meantime, we didn’t take off for, what, 45 minutes - because the FOOD SERVICE people hadn’t been on the plane yet to stock up on sodas and what not. God.
Finally, we got in the air, I read my magazines, listened to my music, watched the Dumbass next to me inhale all sorts of stinky Chinese food and I think - maybe, just maybe - burp and fart a few times.
As we approached Colorado, the pilot said the weather in Denver was bad, and we were in a holding pattern somewhere over Gunnison. So, we begin the circling, and they seated the flight attendants and told us to stay put.
The Dumbass across from me gets up and starts messing with stuff in his overhead compartment. He toodles around a bit. He saunters back to the bathroom. The flight attendant comes on not once, but THREE TIMES telling him to sit down.
After they determine we aren’t diverting to Colorado Springs (gee, thanks!), they tell us they aren’t getting up anymore, we have to pretty much do as we’re supposed to … like putting the seat backs up, the tray tables up. The Dumbass leaves his tray table down as we are bouncing down on the run way. His laptop almost fell off the tray and it’s the only time I’ve ever hoped to see a laptop get trashed.
Back to my kid - apparently when we started circling was about the time my kid had to pee. So forty-five minutes later, we’ve touched down and he makes a bolt up the aisle to me yelling he has to get to the potty. I take him into the potty as every one is deboarding the plane.
The trick? We can’t get OUT of the potty. Nope. A whole bunch of really uberimportant Japanese business men would slam the door shut on us every. single. time. we tried to open the damn thing. I was honestly putting all my weight into opening the door at this point, and they were returning the favor.
Now, come on. If a bathroom door is opening as you are leaving the plane, someone is PROBABLY inside. You know??
About the time my kid is panicking and I’m wondering how we’ll get out, I start to open the door again (might have been calling people names at this point) and I see my husband’s hand reach up, grab a hold, and pry it open. He said he watched this parade of guys go by, he said a few choice things, told me “They honestly weren’t going to let you out” and pried it open so we could get out.
Awesome.
Amazingly enough, our bags were there (I thought, given our day, that we’d probably have our bags sent to some other city). We loaded up the car. I threatened to never travel again, I think, and we went home.
About two hours later, I was unpacking my kid’s carry on bag - the one with his clothes and crap we never used - and saw the cell phone I’d misplaced in there. HOW it got there, I am not sure, but I found it … which was kinda sad, actually, because as Dark Damian pointed out, it’s old and ‘best used by ‘97′.
Anyway, we don’t fly out again until August for a reunion (gah!). Hopefully that trip will be far less interesting.
But with us involved, don’t count on that.
