Somehow, We Never Saw Where It Was Going

So after a very pleasant few days in Montreal and then Quebec, it was time to go home.  Unfortunately, United Airlines had other plans.   They seemed to think we should apply for Canadian citizenship instead.

We arrived at the airport at zero-dark-thirty (with not even a sip of coffee to improve the mood since our beautifully renovated hotel (HA!) did not begin serving coffee till 6am.  Um, hellooooooo....no coffee??? Seriously?  So you want people to be surly and uncommunicative when they check out?  Job well done.) to stand in a moderately long line for check-in. (No coffee, no self-check-in.  We should have seen where this was going.)

There were two United flights leaving at approximately the same time, ours and one to Chicago. There were three people working at the counter: one for the Chicago flight, who seemed able to work a computer, deal with customers and chew gum at the same time; one for our flight, who seemed able to chew gum, and...nope, that's about it, she could chew gum; and one handling the "priority" customers, who seemed only slightly more talented than the woman taking care of our line.  Maybe.  Apparently, our need for coffee was even greater than we thought, because Helen Keller would have seen where this was going.

Now it just so happened that a fairly large group of people swarmed into the priority line at this point because they had "oversized" baggage (sports equipment) with them and claimed they had talked to some employee or other who gave them the go-ahead to get into the priority line (You can see where this is going, right?  Yeah.  We still didn't.)

Meanwhile, the woman working the "Chicago" line finished with her last customer and.....naturally....only to be expected.....started chatting with another employee. GRRRRRRR. But then, wonder of wonders, she logged on to another computer, put up a sign that listed our flight... and then shut everything down and took her break.   Double GRRRRRRRR. (Once again, we should have seen this coming a mile off.  Damn coffee withdrawl!)

Hey, don't mind us.  We've only been standing here for an hour and a half inching forward like constipated snails pulling a wheel of cheddar.  And we really appreciated the game of "got your nose" that you just played with us.  What a fun way to start off the day before being stripped searched, then herded into a metal tube with a hundred of our closest friends,  strapped into a seat designed for one of Santa's undersized elfs,  unloaded through a shoot narrower than a livestock pen to claw our way through a mob to reclaim our bags only to stand in another line.  (And we still didn't see where this was going.)

"I'm sorry,  we've overbooked the flight and there are no more seats available," the woman tried to fake sincerity for our plight.  "We can see if someone with a seat would be willing to give up their tickets for compensation."

Oh.  Yeah. Right.  Labor Day weekend, and you think that three  people are going to give up their seats.  What drugs did you put in your coffee this morning? 

"What's the next flight you can get us out on?"  I asked, trying to hold Tim back from hurdling the counter and making her one with her computer.  How could she not see where this was going?

Rose just pretended she didn't know us.

"Well..." Tap, tap, tap.  "I see a flight to Montreal with a five hour layover and then a late afternoon flight to DC."

So, let me get this straight.  Montreal has hotels where you can actually fit into the bathrooms, cab drivers who don't mess with your heads, and now the only flights home?  If only we had seen where this was going three days ago.

"Fine, we'll take it."


Twenty minutes later, she was still tapping on her computer with not a ticket in sight. 

Um, I hate to interrupt the copy of War and Peace that you are clearly typing out, but any chance we are going to get our tickets before we miss the flight?

"Oh.  You have to go to the window down there," gesturing the counter furthest away in the airport, "for the tickets.  I am working on compensation for you."

Now Tim was holding me back.

"Give us our passports NOW." I channelled the Great and Powerful Oz. This was going to a very bad place, very quickly.

"Here are the passports for Tim and Rose," she offered.

Yup.  She could just about manage to chew gum on a good day.

They took off for the other counter, while the tapping continued.  After another eternity, she upped the degree of difficulty and got on the phone as well.  

Oh, goody.  Now it can take you eight times as long. Going downhill on skates.

Rose came rushing back.

"They are closing the window now," she panted.  "If you don't get down there, you'll miss the flight."

The girl behind the counter still tapped and whispered into the phone, unperturbed.

"I need my passport.  Now." I snapped.

"But I'm still working on your compensation.  Don't you want your $100 coupon toward another flight?"

She should have seen where that was going before she even opened her mouth.