Share Your Airport Rant

At first, I was mad at Delta. Delta stranded me in Cincinnati for two days, made me pay for my own ($$$!) hotel room, lost my baggage, then sent my baggage to Cincinnati after I was already back in Princeton. To add insult to injury, I got stranded on my way to see my best friend in all the world before she left to deploy for IRAQ. Instead of two days to catch up and relax and see each other, we had eleven hours. Stellar.

Then, I was upset at American. Long story that one. Rude flight attendants, no gate agents, Allentown, PA... Never again. Nuh-uh.

Today, I am angry at United. Long story, I don't want to go into all the gory details now or I will just get angrier. The short version is that my sweet week-long visit with Daryl ended with a slightly delayed red-eye flight that resulted in a flat-out airport sprint in Chicago with ten other passengers (nothing like a flat-out airport spring to bond you with New Jersey strangers). This said flat-out sprint ended with us all breathlessly reaching the gate for a flight that supposedly "left early" (we all would have been just on time) but was clearly still sitting on the tarmac, connected to the jet bridge for another twenty minutes after we got there. Oh, also? No flights to Newark until tomorrow. And it's currently 6am. So now I'm at the Chicago airport buying expensive Internet, biding my time until they fly me to Philadelphia in vie hours where I can then attempt to locate my luggage which supposedly has been sent to Newark. Rock on, United.

To add to the fun, I only got about an hour of sleep on the red-eye (some college kid in the seat in front of us was watching "Father of the Bride" and chuckling hysterically with each scene... I'm glad she was enjoying such a wholesome movie, but honestly, put a lid on it at 3am!), I had a super-fun gluten-attack, and I haven't showered since yesterday. I feel tummy-achey, zombie-fied, and greasy like an oil rig.

I have lots of wonderful updates to post about our Los Angeles visit, which I will do shortly. It was a really sweet time of fellowship, family, and sunshine, and I was (as always) sad to leave. But today's post is dedicated to the airport rant.

Daryl has his own rant. As soon as the folks behind the counter at the gate announce the boarding of first class, he begins grumbling about how the "special people" get to walk on the "magic carpet."

My rant is usually about the inhumanity of it all. Barth writes about "Lordless powers," bastions of evil that are faceless, nameless, and incredibly oppressive. In some small way, this is what dealing with an airport/airline feels like. Whenever something goes wrong, and it inevitably does, there are two options: 1) crabby gate agent who has been dealing with irate customers all day because of problems that almost always aren't his/her fault, or 2) customer service hotline, where you will be on hold until you grow a beard (even if you're a woman), and will finally talk to someone in another country.

After getting the runaround for over an hour during one lost-luggage airport debacle awhile back (mind you, we had only brought carry-on bags, but they had taken them away from us on the plane and checked them through to our final destination which was, as it turns out, the moon), Daryl finally asked the woman at the other end of the line where she was. "The Philippines," was her answer. He cracked up. "So you're in the Philippines trying to help me find my luggage that is supposed to be in Cincinnati, Ohio, but has accidentally been sent to New York?" To her credit, she cracked up a little, too. It is comical, really, when it isn't all infuriating.

Hopefully I'll make it home today. Hopefully I won't be giggling like the Mad Hatter when I do. So help me out, friends. What's your worst airport story? Or what's your best one - the one where they stuck you in first class for no reason and gave you free strawberries and bon-bons? How do you feel about airport travel, and how can we all make it through without losing our minds? Share!