Forget the Friendly Skies...

I grew up flying. I'd have to confirm it with my mother, but I am pretty sure that my first flight was taken under the age of two and my first unaccompanied flight was when I was 6 or 7 (and even that was transatlantic) I never minded being cooped up in a tin can flying through the atmosphere. I loved it. I loved everything about travel except packing. I loved the announcements for different flights, the international stewardesses in their classy outfits and watching giant jets being taxied out of the gates. I used to actually drive up to the international airport in Charlotte while I was in college in South Carolina in order to get a coffee and people watch. I loved traveling by air that much. It made me happy to just sit in the Airport and try and guess where people where going or if at that moment I had the money where would I buy a ticket to on flights leaving in the next few minutes. I didn’t mind longer layovers as long as it was an airport I liked.

This is no longer true. The wonders of air travel are slowing being sapped one by one by the airlines and security agencies. Gone are the days of picking up your friends at the gate or meeting a buddy for lunch at the airport during their long layover. Inch by inch leg room was stolen so they could fit in more seats and find a way to over book flights even more than before. It used to be that if you’d miss a typical meal time (say 11:30 to 1:30 for lunch) you’d be feed something. Granted it wasn’t always the best, but you would not go hungry. Now you are lucky if they don’t make you pay for the pretzels (and I honestly miss the honey roasted peanuts).

You used to have service with a smile and slender well dressed attendants. Now you have over worked flight crews who aren’t always friendly and often bump into you with their plumper regions (this is less true of non-US carriers, but we have to be PC and can’t hire flight attendants on looks anymore). You used to be able to bring two checked bags internationally for free and one free checked bag on domestic flights. Now that is gone and people are hitting you in the head with their overstuffed full sized suit case and calling it a carry on. I’ve now been on three flights where they ran out of room on the plan for carry-ons. It ticked me off because I made sure to measure mine to make sure it would fit in the over head bin and well, no one else did that. And of course they check mine and not the 65-pound-nearly-the-size-of-a-steamer-trunk-thing the man in 28c put over row 15. As much of a hassle it is in Europe, I rather hope they start weighing carry-ons in the US too.

What is worse I all of this just make the customers more angry and more likely to tick each other off. Like how a lady in row 15 had words with the dude from 28c. I just usually just loose sleep. I can’t relax because I’m not comfortable and now can’t clear my mind of the anger over paying 500+ for tickets following the rules and not getting my money’s worth. In all this just makes me more likely to be agitated. There was a time when 'd not care if they made me shuffle stuff from one bag to another to make one lighter. I'd even volunteer me seat if they over booked and I didn't have a connecting flight or an appointment to make on the other end. It feel bad for the baby crying because his ears won't pop. Now I'm pissed off at the mother for flying with a baby (I would have never agreed with my friend 5 years ago, but now her idea that you can only have one baby in the cabin per flight, just like dogs, is sounding more appealing).

To make matters worse, the last flight I had cancelled on me was from Chicago to Charlotte. I never choose to travel through Chicago. I hate both airports there. I, however, didn't buy the tickets my self and beggars can't be choosers. My flight got cancelled because they were only letting plans a certain size fly out that evening due to the weather. Because this was a weather related problem they wouldn't pay for your hotel. I didn't want to spend the night in the airport so I called to see if I could just change flights to some where else and then transfer there to get home. I had actually tried to preempt this when I originated out of Vegas, but since the connecting flight in Chicago hadn't been cancelled yet they wouldn't let me do it.

I got in the "costumer service" (this name applies as much as meal applies to pretzels) line and decided to call my father who had booked the original tickets and see if he can help with the changes. My Father called the customer service call center (they try to be more helpful, but aren't always either) from his phone, and I also did the same while standing in line. I was transferred to a woman in India. Being stranded in O'Hare is not the time to send a customer to someone in India. I'm tired from traveling, it is super loud in the concourse, many American and British English words for travel hold different meanings, and I lost my patience with my baggage during the connecting flight. I'm in no mood to try and communicate when she can't understand my slightly southern accent and I can't hear here over the baby crying next to me.

Well we give it a go anyway. There was lots of asking the other person to repeat herself on both sides. I think she thought I couldn't understand her accent. It really wasn't that, I am very much used to speaking with people with accents. I live in a city where there are innumerable variations on the southern accent mixed with international accents tinged with southern accents, or even more challenging a foreign accent mixed with a Boston accent with a hint of Tennessee twang. The truth of the matter was that I was exhaust and it was too noisy for me to even begin to understand her. Eventually, I found out there were no more flights to Charlotte that Friday. So I asked her when would the first flight tomorrow be. There were no flights tomorrow. In fact, the first possible flight would be on Monday night. There is no way in hell I am going to stay at an airport for an entire weekend. This was unacceptable. So I asked for a flight to DC. Well it turns out the airline was cancelling even the bigger flight after 8pm, and that was when the next flight to DC had been scheduled. Atlanta? the last flight be 8pm left 15 minutes ago. Tampa was also a no go. I asked her are there any flight going out of Chicago on your carrier or someone else's before the 8pm cut off that I can take and eventually end up at least a state that shares a border with the Carolinas? that took some explaining as I had to now list those states (granted I'm not even sure a call center in the US would have been able to figure that out with out the help of Google). Apparently, there was one, but it leaves in 10 minutes and is on the other side of the airport. Just as I was about to lose it my father beeped in on the other line. I put the Indian woman on hold (I've always want to to put a call center person on hold!) and my father said, "You've got 10 minutes, run to gate G21 your flying to Raleigh." I hung up on my line to Mumbai and booked it. One guy further behind me in line and one guy in front of me also did the same thing.

It was just like you've seen in the movies. I wish I wasn't wearing heels, but I didn't have time to even try and run barefoot, thought idea did cross my mind. I ran shouting down the people mover that "the f'ing sign says stand to the right you dolt!" I only stopped ran in to the check in counter at the gate when the attendant standing there screamed that I can't just run onto a plane. She wanted my boarding pass. I said can you look me up with my Charlotte pass? I need to make this flight and it was booked maybe 12 minutes ago so please please please let me be in the system. She was hemming and hawing, but she looked me up and let me on board as I started down the jet way I yelled back, oh don't close that screen there is another guy who is about 2 minutes behind me, and sue enough I heard her yell at him too as I stepped on to the plane. I've never in my life been that happy about going to Raleigh (this is more meaningful if you understand the dynamics between Charlotte and Raleigh).

Oh and it took two days to get my bag out of Chicago.