Travel day of hellish proportions

Maybe I had just been lucky. For the most part, I have never had major problems when traveling. I have had flights delayed sat out on a tarmac but it never wasn’t a big deal.

So I guess I was due. When I got to the airport on Monday I checked into the electronic kiosk (one of the best inventions ever!) just to see my flight had been cancelled. WTF? I could either accept the new itinerary they gave me or talk with someone at the desk. Of course the line was long and moving live a tortoise but I had little choice but to take a spot and wait.

I listed to the “veteran” travelers bitchin and moanin in front of me for a bit. I felt like taking my paper and shoving into their mouths so it would be peaceful again. But they were nothing compared to the doofus I noticed by the ticket counter. A guy in his early 20s at the most, traveling with a girl who looked like she was barely above 16. Chick looked like she had a major attitude problem as I noticed she sighed a lot and never spoke. What bothered me about this couple was the huge luggage they had. It looked like they packed all of their clothes into these two bags. I watched a bit dumbfounded as the guy made this little, tiny girl try to life these heavy bags onto the scale. He never moved a muscle to help her as she struggled. He made her lift both his and her bags up. Unbelievable! How this man could not have the sense to take care of this was unthinkable to me. What a dick!

So I finally get up to the front and am told I can get out to San Fran today but I will need to take a different airline up to Minneapolis and catch a later flight. No problem it seems except I cannot check my bag. That doesn’t seem to be a big issue to me at first. So I grab my stuff, check in with the Best Care in the Air, and go up to security. Of course, they pull me aside to give me the whole security check. I don’t mind this either. They are doing their jobs. I move on and now have to wait 2 ½ hours for the new flight. It was already delayed once so I am not expecting a miracle here either. I have a 2 hour layover anyways. So I pop open the portable DVD player I had bought and watched a movie. Made the time go by rather quickly. Turns out the flight was delayed another 20 minutes anyways. So much for being on time.

When we land in Minneapolis, I grab my stuff down and narrowly hit a lady with my luggage. That sure would have cold-cocked her out! I start walking through the terminal looking for instructions on how to get to the other terminal. I have been in this airport before and knew that my next flight was in the main terminal. So I look around for any sign on how to get there. I will be damned if their was no indication of where to go. There wasn’t anyone at the information desks either. Damn it! I hate it when people that are supposed to help can’t even be found. So I asked a different airline employee and they explained where I need to go.

I have to walk outside, through the parking garage and find the train. This wasn’t so bad except then you had to wait outside in the rainy cold weather for the train. It finally arrives and I am off to the ticketing counter. I really want to dump this bag off. As I walk by the rows and rows of check in lines for this airline, I finally find where I need to be.

An employee then starts to give me the third degree. I show her my ticket and she looks at me like I speak a foreign language. Turns out I didn’t have a boarding pass and couldn’t get through. I would have to wait. She calls over some guy who grabs my ticket and runs back behind the counter as I trail off in the distance. He taps away for a bit, looks at me and barks “Is this yours?” and hands me a boarding pass. He then turns and walks away. I was about to mention checking my bad but thought fuck it. I can carry it some more. Nice security check there too. Never asked for any ID.

The guy in the security check then harasses me. I am behind some German couple who is taking their sweet time to toss stuff into the bin. So I hop in front of them and go through. As I do the guy asked for my boarding pass. It is in my jacket, which is being x-rayed. Besides, someone 10 feet away just asked for it, why do you? I grab my jacket and can’t find it. I check each pocket and then see it laying in the bin. At this point, the x-ray guy is piliing up bins and carryons all over the place, ramming them down the line.

I grab my stuff to get it out of the way and head to the gate. Of course it is packed. My two-hour cushion is now just 40 minutes, which is ok. I sit down and wait. They start to board the plane at 5 for a 5:22 flight. They get all the “good” people on followed by the “perk”: people. It looked like half the damn plane had some kind of perk going on! They finally start calling the piss-ons and I can board. I am in the back of the plane, hopefully, not by the pissers.

When I get to my seat, I see the overhead is packed. So I put my bad in the row in front of me. 5 minutes later some guy is bitching about his overhead being full. I stare at him, challenging him to call me out. 40 minutes after boarding begins, we pull away. I am able to pull out the DVD player and watch Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Well for an hour at least. The batter died just as Violet became a blueberry.

So I read through my Maxim mag and soon enough we were on the ground again. It was rainly in San Fran too. It then took 20 minutes for me to get off the plane. I finally get checked in and unpacked in my hotel room after 12 hours of traveling.

I am starving as well as the only food I have had is the two chocolate chip cookies on the first flight. I head to the hotel bar to catch the rest of the MNF game. The rest being 41 seconds. I get a beer and the bartender tries to give me Bud Light. Could my day get any worse? I guzzle down a couple of Lites and chow down a burger before heading up to my room. I am tired but not that tired and try to watch TV. I am just glad my day of traveling hell is over.

Coming up next: The tranny waitress, er waiter. Watching a blind man walk into a tree. Checking out the city. Or at least somewhat.