After spending a great weekend soaking up some Florida sun, I headed to the airport this past Sunday, patting myself on the back that I had decided to come back the day before the holiday, when everyone else would be flying. Hehehe.
Turns out, it was the airline that had the last laugh.
This was my plan: arrive early for my flight, breeze through security, sit and have a nice cheese or maybe veggie pizza for dinner while reading my book, finish my book on the plane and be home in time for Desperate Housewives .
This was the airline's plan: schedule every flight in terminals B, C and D to take off at the exact same time so that all eight thousand passengers could get chummy while standing in the security line for twelve hours. I guess it's the airline's version of Facebook.
Some people apparently enjoy the bonding experience so much that they do everything in their power to prolong it. Like the ones ahead of me, who decided that despite being told fifty-six thousand times to have their ID out and ready, they would rather wait until they got to the head of the line before trying to remember which pocket they had tucked their wallet into.
Or the guy in front of me at the x-ray machine who placed...each...item...in...the...bins...one...at... a...time...after...carefully...removing...it... Arghhh!!! I've seen constipated slugs move faster!
And as if these fun and games the airlines had kindly provided so far were not enough, they had planned a few more, free of charge.
Like one of my favorites, the ever-popular: "Which disgusting food sold near the gate is the least likely to land you in the hospital?"
Courtesy of their master plan, I arrived at the gate with only ten minutes to spare, and the pizza place was three deep in people trying to avoid the only other two food choices: boxed salads that looked like they had been made fresh...in 1872 or burgers that could be used as hockey pucks and may or may not have contained any actual beef. Yummy, yummy!
Setttling on a burger and a bag of Cheetos, I made it to the gate to find the area only half-full and the plane having just arrived with people coming off. Finally. Something going according to my plan. Hehehe (said the airlines)
As the last person de-planed, they turned all the lights on the aircraft off. Da da da dum (think Beethoven's Fifth)
Five minutes later, they announced that the plane had a "mechanical" problem and they were waiting for a part. Da da da dum.
Ten minutes later, they asked people making connecting flights to come to the counter. Da da da dum, da da da dum, da da da dum.
Fifteen minutes later, their plan for screwing up my night was complete. The flight was cancelled due to an inability to get the part: a small rubber ring.
Were they kidding? A small rubber ring? You mean nowhere in the whole big airport with lots and lots of planes, they couldn't find one extra rubber ring? And what exactly was the function of this ring besides causing me to have a coronary? Did it do something really important like hold the curtain between first class and coach closed, or perhaps allow the beverage cart to roll down the aisle in reverse?
Joining the rest of the disgruntled horde in the mad dash up to the counter to rebook, I could only hope they planned on letting me go home sometime in the near future, or at least that I could get back to the condo in time for Desperate Housewives .
They went with option number two. The only flight available was the same one on Monday.
Yippee. Flying out the evening of the last day of a holiday weekend, along with everyone else from this flight. I'm so glad I planned this trip back in October.
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