Worst Traveling Day Ever, Not That It Matters

I arrived at LAX about 90 minutes early for my flight to Cedar Rapids, IA (through Minneapolis). The layover in Minnesota was kind of long, but I thought I would use that time to perhaps work on a Heroes recap. Unfortunately, after completing the self check-in I discovered that my flight was delayed 3 hours, which would put me in the Land of 1000 Lakes after my connecting flight was supposed to depart. Not good. As I made my way to the counter with my boarding pass, I was slowly building my argument for the inevitable argument I was about to have with the agent. Except it never came. The agent at Northwest realized the error, and went so far as to put me on another plane on another airline in order to fix their mistake.

Excellent! I am now on American Airlines, and this flight will actually get me to Iowa quicker than the original flight. I take a nice brisk walk from Terminal 2 to Terminal 4 at LAX and do the self check-in thing once again. They were even kind enough to give me Priority AAccess, which allowed me to skip the plebeian security lines and hobnob with all of those miles upgraders and the other poor folk who can't afford to charter a Gulfstream in these tough times. The most interesting part of that security line was the woman wearing fur. Fur! and it wasn't like fake fur lining her parka, it was actual...fur! I wonder if I was the only person in line that wanted to pour three ounces or less of whatever liquid I had on my carry-on onto her.

Animal rights outrage aside, I made it through security and on to one of my favorite places on earth: the airport bar. I have met interesting people while trying to catch that last drink/meal before the flight, and since I figured a drink would help me sleep on my flight, I saddled myself up and ordered two (since it was still early, I topped my vodka off with orange juice). At the bar, I had a good conversation with a couple of other college football fans whose programs have fallen on hard times (Tennessee, Nebraska), and you can tell you are drinking with old-schoolers when they are kicking back Jim Beam at 8AM.

But this is a tale of sorrow and misery. With a little juice and distilled spirits in my system, I was bopping my head a little more than usual as I made my way down the concourse to my gate and through the jetway to my seat. I had the window seat with a nice-smelling MILF (no ring!) when the troubles began. As we were backing out of the gate, we had a failure of the hydraulics, which are something you will need if you are going to fly a plane with any modicum of safety.

You've probably experienced the next part of the story. Airline gets new plane, you depart two hours later than normal, you miss your connection, and are stranded somewhere not very close to your destination. Except I was kind of close to my destination. It's 5PM. O'Hare is only about 250 miles from my final destination (love that movie, btw). Figuring light traffic due to everybody else being inside eating Turkey, I decided I could make it in 3.5 hours driving. I figured if I could get my bag within an hour or so, I could still say I spent at least a couple of hours with my family on Thanksgiving. This whole time I began to worry that my phone would run out because I forgot my charger (which is why I didn't use the cameraphone to document more of this ordeal).

It was not to be so, but I do need to say one more thing about my flight. To the pilot of AA flight 54 from LAX to ORD on November 27, don't make announcements on the plane that you will be holding your connecting flights at the gates. You know it's not going to happen. Don't try and get our hopes up when you have no power to do facilitate that at all. You KNEW that we were all watching WALL-E and that we would all be emotionally spent and extra trusting in the ability of humanity to work things out. Well, go fuck yourself. I was watching The Brave One on DVD, so I was jaded and saw through your bullshit.

But back to my bag. Ever since the airline restrictions on liquids, I end up packing a lot of extra stuff into my checked bag because it makes security easier. Yes, it's a pain in the ass if the airlines lose something, but the only item I need with me when I am traveling is my laptop. Since I missed my flight, American was kind enough to book me on the next available flight (which punches another hole in the "we're holding your connections at the gate" farce by the captain) by the time I had reached my gate. But I wanted to drive, so I needed my bag. But they can't get the bag because it their handling system has it booked for another flight. Seriously, I had landed ten minutes ago and busted my ass through terminal G, and they already had my flight booked and bags assigned? This is more efficiency than I have ever seen from an airline.

American was kind enough to put me up in a hotel, but I explained that I needed my bag because I was going to drive the rest of the way. The gate agent said check the baggage claim because my bag might still show up before it is transferred to the other flight, which is obviously a suggestion made just to get me out of her hair. However, I knew they were working on a Holiday and it sucks for them to be working as much as it sucks for me to be traveling, so I waited by the baggage claim patiently while my bag never showed up.

Next stop: Baggage Services. The first counter said they couldn't request a change order for my bag because they use a different system. I would have to go to another baggage counter to get that done. Second baggage counter and a nice woman gave me plenty of attitude about my desire to get my bag. She said they can't do it, but it will show up at my final destination. After telling her I was planning on driving and needed my contacts in the bag (true), she said that she would put the request in, but there was no guarantee, and it would take an hour.

The time frame was really biting into my hopes of getting home for turkey and stuffing, but I still thought it would be possible. Maybe, just maybe, something amazing would happen. Alas, there was no miracle. I decided it was getting too late to drive. I went to a ticket counter and got me hotel voucher (Crowne Plaza, not too shabby). Unfortunately, they didn't see fit to give me a meal voucher, saying they didn't do that for domestic flights. I told them if they were admitting fault for not being able to get me to my destination on time, they could possibly give me a meal for my trouble. Would it really be so bad? On a holiday? I tried one last time to say I needed my bag because it contains medication (hey, I always through some Tylenol PM in there just in case), they said unless it contained insulin, I was out of luck because they had fewer staff because of the holiday.

I would have had more sympathy for them if I weren't witness to another group of idle gate agents talking about maternity pants (the discussion basically was about how long it takes before you just give up and wear leggings all the time).

Discouraged and disheveled, I made my way out to the Crowne Plaza shuttle, cursing myself for leaving my warm clothes in my bag, wondering if that chocolate chip cookie and skim milk at starbucks would be my most satisfying meal of the day. The shuttle driver to the Crowne Plaza was a good guy, in the middle of a double shift on a holiday. I met a nice retired couple from Wisconsin, who also missed their connection to Madison. My sympathy ran out, however, once I heard that they were getting back from Dubai had a special Thanksgiving Day feast courtesy of British Airways executive class.

The hotel was nice, I finished watching The Brave One and after showering in the morning and getting some bad hotel coffee in me, I realized I had about three hours left until I was home. Once there, I was still pissed at what happened, but couldn't really be that mad. Oe of my older sisters got married to a great guy and I got to see a lot of nieces and nephews that I haven't seen in a long time (or at all). I got to eat a lot of food, including some great African food that I can never seem to duplicate in my own kitchen. Instead of being pissed at the airlines, I'll just be happy I did make it back to my family, and didn't miss anything important.

Here is a look at some of the adorable cousins that soothed my savage nerves:

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This is Junior, currently one of two boys joining ten girls among the nieces and nephews on my mom's side of the family.