#64 - Jan. 21, 2008, 2:13 a.m.
Q u o t e:
Horrible air travel story
Iffy, here's what happened to me. I had it saved because I think it's a good story.
--
I saved up 5 vacation days to see my family at Christmas this year.
I left work early on Friday to get to the airport a few hours early to beat security. As a long-haired boy, I have (of late) been the target of extended security searches in each airport I pass through without fail. I didn't want to get held up for so long that I missed my flight, especially with it being the holidays and all.
I was feeling pretty good about this trip--there was (planned) a limited amount of travel time and time lost. I would get into Bradley International at around midnight and go home and sleep.
Of course, it never works out like I plan.
My first sign that things were going to be bad was when I got up to the ticket counter.
"You're flying into Chicago? Oh, all flights in and out of there are delayed."
How long, I asked?
"Oh, at least a few hours."
Granted, I had a two-hour layover in Chicago. Maybe everything would end up okay! I walked over to security, and watched the boarding pass checking lady like a hawk, waiting for her Marker of Damocles to write the dreaded SSSS on my ticket. She did not; I was not the recipient of a security search. This was a good thing, but the good didn't last.
The group of us waiting for the flight at our gate sat patiently (??) whilst we tried to pry information out of the gate agents. No such luck. The time for our flight to leave came and went with no word. Finally, we were informed that our flight was to leave at 7:44 PM, in about an hour and a half. I was upset--I would almost certainly miss my connecting flight in Chicago--but it was better than having the flight cancelled!
And then, two minutes later, they cancelled the flight.
We flipped out. It's the holidays; every other flight out to where we needed to go was booked solid until the 26th. If I didn't get out of here tonight, I was going to be stuck in Austin for Christmas. I waited in line to talk to the gate agent to get me something, anything. My turn came.
What can you do for me, I asked.
"I just don't know," she said. "Everything is full...How do you feel about San Antonio?"
It's kind of a tourist trap, I replied. Why do you ask?
"I mean the airport. There's a flight leaving there at 6:45 in the morning. It'll land in Chicago at about 9:15. I'm putting you down for it. It's first class."
Okay, great! So there's a slight delay, but I'll get there, I thought. I called my friend Luis and he came and got me. San Antonio's an hour and a half away from Austin, so we opted to try getting a Greyhound bus, since they go to San An twice hourly.
Turns out that our Greyhound station was in a decidedly bad part of town, but what can you do? I entered the station with my bags and I was greeted with the sight of about a hundred people, waiting to go southbound.
I waited 45 minutes in line to speak to the only person working there. When I got up there, I informed him that I needed a ticket to San Antonio. He, in turn, informed me that he was unable to sell tickets southbound until 10:30 in the morning due to the sheer number of people waiting to go there.
My friend offered to just drive me there. Keep in mind that at this point, it's midnight. We trekked to SA and found the airport practically deserted since it was so early in the morning (2:30 AM). I was the only non-employee there besides a person on a bench who was very likely homeless. Nothing was open; no gates, no security, no baggage, no nothing. I waited for two hours for security to open up and could barely prop myself up in a chair. It was four-thirty.
I zonk out in my chair for about an hour. No one stole my stuff, which was nice. I woke up in time to board my first-class seat. Comfortable, kind of!
We finally, finally got en route to Chicago. Things are going well at last, I thought.
Hahahahahahahaha.
Halfway through the trip they informed us that Chicago was experiencing air traffic congestion and we'd need to land in Indianapolis to refuel. They had no estimate of how long.
I had a layover of only two hours in Chicago. If I didn't make this flight, then I'd be stuck in Chicago for Christmas.
We landed and we waited. We refueled as needed and then there was no word from the flight crew for about half an hour. I was frantically looking at my cell phone like somehow time would move slower if I kept checking it. It didn't.
We were informed that we were waiting on paperwork to get us off the ground again. It would only take a little while, we were assured. 30 minutes later we were informed that they had the wrong fax number (?????????) and that it should only take a little while.
30 minutes later, we took off, and I zonked out. I was awoken by the familiar voice of the flight attendant informing us that we were about to make our final descent into Chicago. Local time was 11:35.
My flight in Chicago left at 11:05.
Defeated, I exited the plane and began to look for numbers on my phone who might know my local friend's information. Absentmindedly, I looked up at the departure board.
Flight from Chicago to Hartford leaves at 12:15.