Travel by air has been tubulent for me lately.  I’m not sure why, but for some reason, the course of human events is telling me i should lay off.

story one: anatomy of missing flight
It’s saturday afternoon.  I’m supposed to be catching a flight to Santa Monica at 3:30.  Instead of bothering someone for a ride, i opt for long term parking. So, i get to the airport at 2:30 and follow the signs to long term parking, follow the signs to long term parking, follow the signs to long term parking. Long term parking is like 30 minutes away from the airport.  doh.  so, i get to the terminal with 30 min to spare.  I pull up to the easy checkin terminal, slide my card into the machine and get “Cannot check in, please see a ticketing agent.” Fuck.

alright, time to see an agent.  I look around for someone to talk to and see only a long line of people waiting.  double fuck. i start yelling at people to get attention. “Yo, my flight is taking off in 30 min.  little help?”  someone takes notice and fast-tracks me to the head of the line.  I talk to the teller, she calls the gate to ask if it’s ok to check me in.  the phone rings. the phone rings. the phone rings . . . someone picks up.  “is it ok to check-in a passenger?” the person on the other side of the line says something to the effect of “yes.” wonderful!

the teller hangs up the phone, punches in something on the keyboard and then hits the print button.  oddly, right before she hits that print button, the teller next to her decides to take apart the printer to add more paper. tick-tock. teller fumbles with the new roll of ticket paper. tick-tock. shoves the roll into the printer. tick-tock. waits for the print to reset. tick-tock. finally get my boarding pass.

I run to the security checkpoint. my gate number is 72, one gate to the left of the security. fantastic.  give the person my boarding pass and id, get to the security checkpoint, choose a line . . . choose a line . . . choose a . . . at that moment all the security lines shutdown save for one. fuck. I’m five back from the front. double fuck.

i have ten minutes.  I beg, plead and negotiate my way to the front of the line. great. there’s only one person in front of me, a girl.  she walks through metal detector and waits for her bags on the other side. waits . . . waits . . . the dude at the x-ray machine apparently likes what he sees. runs the bag through once, twice, thrice, four times, five times . . . “bag check!” noooooo!

unfortunately, the girl has two bags.  second bag gets run once, twice, thrice, four times . . . “bag check!” bag check guy comes over, walks up to the x-ray dude and says, “Man, what’s your problem? you gotta cut this out!”

now it’s my turn, put my two bags and two bins through.  each bag: once, twice thrice . . . I put my shoes through first, so as the bags are are getting x-rayed, i’m getting dressed again . . . shoes on. check. belt on. check. wallet, keys, change, check. ok, all my bags are done scanning . . . except, the person behind me has his bag close to mine, so my bag is still unreachable as he runs the other dude’s bag once, twice thrice . . . I just want to reach in and grab my damn bag, but i know i can’t unless i want to be labeled a terrorist. meanwhile, the security people realize x-ray guy is a douche bag and opens another line. wtf?!? the guy two places back from me goes through the other line and is on his way before i get all my stuff.
finally get my bags, run to the gate . . . flight has left.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 10th, 2006 at 4:15 am and is filed under Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.