Adventures in Air Travel

I spent all last week on a business trip in California. Because I prefer to fly out of a smallish airport near my home (and because my employer is parsimonious), my return flight involved three legs and two airlines. LAX to Vegas to Detroit to Newburgh, NY was the itinerary for my "red eye" trip. I finished my business early on Friday and managed to get an earlier flight to Vegas where the next airline, Northwest, assured me that it was impossible to get out earlier than my midnight flight. I took a shuttle to the Strip and gawked at some casinos for a few hours, since I had never been to Sin City. Perhaps because it was daytime, the place looked a lot less like Sodom than I had expected. And the spirit of the Rat Pack was not in evidence, either.

I got back to the airport by 9 pm because I saw that the TSA screening process was unusually inefficient. Luckily, I was able to get through in about 45 minutes with minimal harassment. The imperious b***h in control of the magic portal yelled at me because I handed her my ID with my boarding pass when she had asked for the boarding pass only.

My Northwest flight boarded around midnight, and 250 or so passengers sat on the sweltering plane for over an hour while some unspecified mechanical problem was addressed. Finally, we learned that the pilot had despaired of getting it repaired and the flight would be delayed until some unspecified future time that we would have to learn from the ticket agent. The cranky horde made its way across the airport to the ticket counter to find that it was staffed by a single dimwitted ticket agent. Each transaction appeared to take over 15 minutes, and I was about number 50 in line.

After about half an hour, additional staff appeared. One woman stood up on the counter and announced that the flight had been delayed until 7 pm that night, some 17 hours hence. Moreover, the airline could not help with hotel rooms as Vegas appeared to be full, and it was impossible to get anyone on any other flight. She declared that we would have to accept this or all the agents would walk out. I suppose she was trying to incite a riot, and the passengers were enraged by her words and her tone and began shouting and crowding the counter. Meanwhile, I was on the horn with Northwest and was told that I was wasting the agent's time, and this sorely tested my Christian love for my fellow man.

Some Vegas PD personnel appeared and dispersed the crowd. Thereafter, a particularly thuggish officer E. Oliver took it upon himself to control access to the agents who remained to help the 50 or so passengers who did not believe the announcement. He rudely forced several individuals who had been called up to the counter to get back in line in order to favor passengers whom he had arbitrarily selected for service. I steeled myself to resist him, but this was not necessary when I got to the counter after an hour and a half wait (agents kept disappearing and reappearing). "Get me anywhere near Eastern New York," I pleaded. A flight to Albany, about a hundred miles or so from the airport where my car was parked, was arranged for 7 am with a connection in Minneapolis to get me to the Empire State about 5:30 pm, too late for the benefit concert my wife had scheduled for us. Unfortunately, I had to retrieve my luggage from the delayed flight and recheck it, a process that took another hour and involved another encounter with the Vegas PD thug.

Part of the deal was an upgrade to first class for the Vegas to Minneapolis leg, and this meant going through the first class screening line. This was a single line through which all wheelchair users were also processed. Good lord, the TSA put these grey headed crones through quite the screening. It seemed as if they were looking for the persons least likely to be terrorists. Northwest had identified me as a security risk because I had changed my flight; therefore, I was "selected" for special scrutiny: a pat down, belt off, wand waving, carry on search, and foot exam (what the hell?). Thanks a lot, Northwest. I was consoled by the notion that some TSA sap would have to search my checked bag and get up close and personal with a weeks' worth of dirty underwear and socks.

I reached Albany without incident and needed to rent a car as the most economical way to get home. For some reason, car rental companies do not like walk ups and will not ordinarily rent to them (I was told). At last, Hertz took pity on me and rented me a Jeep Liberty, and I was in my own bed by 8 pm.

Lessons learned: Never book a flight that involves more than one airline. Never check a bag unless absolutely necessary. Always wash your feet and clip your toenails before travelling as you will be removing your shoes several times. Always be absurdly early because the TSA is a huge bottleneck. Know some of the alternatives so you can call bulls**t on the airline if you have to. Always ask Jesus for the serenity to handle the inconvenience calmly and with love.