Airports...

Having been heckled the entire term to blog and not abiding by the requests. I realized that right now sitting in the Denver airport would be an opportune time to share some stories about WHY I hate airtravel in America.

I blame some of this on my upbringing in Asia.  Where you had deluxe treatment and were met curbside and ushered through security. Being called "Ms. DeFord" My sister had her cup noodles brought to her in a nice bowl.  Thank you Singapore Airlines this is why you are the number one airline in the world, and this is why I love you.

Now having travelled domestically more times then I would like to count I literally have lost all patience that I have for airports.  Today I even cut in front of an old lady on an airplane.  I know.  I know.  But this just links into why, why I hate airports so much.

Shrinks say it is important to write down your thoughts when you are frustrated...so lets be real, I wrote down my thoughts.

This evening is a prime example.  I finished a final around 10:00.  Checked my flight status about 10 times (I realize) and left the airport only 2 and half hours before my flight departed.  I like getting there really early.  So I get to Eugene.  One of the smallest, but worst airports in the continental U.S.A.  I check by bag.  Go through security where there is a lady with a 2-liter Dr. Pepper and a flower in a vase.  She seems drunk, but does not seem to understand why they won’t let her through.  I mean I guess there aren’t enough warnings not to bring liquids I mean its on your ticket, on the website, on 10 signs before you get to security, but its OK some of us just don’t pay attention to anything.  In the mean time I have to wait there and watch her actually make a fool out of herself.  Lets just say there was no dr. pepper in the end, and no rose.  TSA won.

Then I’m sitting at my gate.  Patiently minding my own business and the gate guy comes on the loud speaker and talked not even joking you for three minutes.  Three minutes about how to board the plane and let me directly quote what he repeated for three minutes  “I won’t fool you I will get cha if your bag is over the limit, that’s 2000 dollars out of my pocket, I don’t have 2000 dollars I’ll get cha” oh will you get me.

Anyways I’m in Zone 4 awesome.  I get on the plane.  Every time I get on the airplane I try to guess who I’m sitting by and by guess I mean hope that I am sitting next to a hot guy, and not the talker or the 300 pounder.   Well today I sat next to a
“reading klepto.”  Who took up the whole armrest.  By reading klepto I simply mean the magazine stealer.  Yea the one who takes your magazine when your sleeping, and you have no idea where it went until you see it out of the corner of your eye.  Well yea I’m one less Self Magazine away from looking fly. And I slept through the beverages.  The damn beverages.

So now I’m in Denver.  Sitting, waiting, watching, WATCHING the delayed sign increase fifteen minutes every fifteen minutes.  First I was at gate A50, now I’m at gate A31.  YA.  Stop lying to me Frontier airlines. Needless to say this all could be happening because my Mom booked me on a "Missouri Airlines" flight.  Did you know that was an airline? No, neither did I.  Will I fly on it again? No. Tangent aside. This is where my biggest pet peeve comes in.  There are fifteen people in line to talk to the airport-ticketing agents.  The lines are held pretty close together. You guys know the drill.  You wait forty-five minutes for one innocent victim to come up and do their job.  People in the line can hear what the person in front of them is asking usually because the person in front of them is screaming, crying, yelling, or just loud.  Why do you need to waste there time asking the same question in fifteen different ways.  

“Is the flight delayed”?

“Yes”

“So is my flight coming later”?

“Yes”

“Why isn’t my flight here, is it delayed”

“Yes”

“So the monitor says my flights delayed, is it?”

“Yes”

"So I see that my flight is coming later"

"Yes"

"Can you tell me what is wrong with the plane?"

"No"

"Can you tell me if its going to come earlier"

"No"

"Can you book me on another flight"

"No"

"Do you hate your life right now?"

"YES"

I never knew there were so many different ways to ask the same question.  Now I do.

But here is the champion.  

The champion.  

The one who gave George Clooney something to make fun of in Up in the Air.  

The clinger. 

The passenger who establishes the role of the leader of the flight, the one that will make allies with other passengers and fight the airlines as it is Britain and America in the olden days.  The Passengers being Britain, and the airlines being the Patriots. 

The I just call everyone in my phonebook: 1-800-AIRTRAVELISOVERATED, 1-800-IWILLPUTYOUONHOLDANDNOTPICKUP, 1-800-IAMANNOYING. 

The I can fly the plane from my blackberry. 

The I can annoy every single person sitting in the Denver Airport. 

The I want to be blacklisted from everyflight in the world.

I will call her Mary Mismatch.  Only because she is very mismatching right now. Limegreen blouse, brown cargo pants.  That is never ok, especially not today.  She has been walking around, phone against ear, inhaler in hand (I realize), on a mission.  She has met twelve different people on my flight and has planned a carpool.  A carpool, carpools with complete strangers. Sounds like an awesome idea to me.  I mean they let OJ Simpson ride on an airplane, lets just all be friends.  She has been calling out funny things like “that tail wind better be fucking strong.”  It wasn't until this next moment that I became completely speechless  because now she is talking about where she is from; she is from a town called Pocahontas.  Yes like the Disney movie. Yes, is this real life. Every time the door opens she asks, “are we boarding” “are we boarding”…NO MISS we aren’t boarding.  I will personally hold her hand and walk her onto the plane when we board.  Not to mention I was going to finish my blog and proof read it after I had landed which is now.  But I would just like to add that out of all people that I could have sat next to after that epic adventure.  I got to sit next to the 300-pound cowboy wearing overalls from bumfuk Missouri who I nicely offered my aisle seat too.  I can tell you for a fact I did not get up to move about the cabin, but at all that entire trip. 

There is Peace and Love then there is Airtravel.