Friday, October 27, 2006

 

I didn't even meet the man of my dreams...

So last night had me sitting on my suitcase at the airport, crying my eyes out while I was the phone. Perhaps there had been a disaster, you ask? Some family tragedy?

No - I, Meghan, HAD GONE TO THE WRONG AIRPORT.

I have no idea how I screwed it up. No idea at all. Some part of my subconscious must have been fighting to be heard, because walking to the Delta ticket counter, I knew I was right, but I felt like I was at the wrong airport. There was this nagging feeling that was growing as I got closer and closer and walked longer and longer (it was a damn long hallway).

I finally got to the counter, and the woman asked where I was going. First tip-off: no one else was checking in. It was me, her, and a lone security guard. I told her Boston...she hesitated, and told me that Delta wasn't flying to Boston tonight. In fact, they don't go from Dulles to Boston. I wavered. Hoped against hope that I had the wrong airline. But since I had copied and pasted my airline to my Dad earlier that day, I knew it was Delta.

(By the way, it was AirTran. Not Delta. I blame Expedia for that random thing. Because I checked, and my itinerary does say "Delta")

She kinda tiptoed away, and I called home. My dad asked me what was wrong, my voice broke, and I said that I think I had gone to the wrong airport, and asked him to check my email to verify. He started looking for other flights, and said that AirTran had two flights leaving BWI the next day. 6:45 am and 2:30 pm.

Okay, let's take a second here. Baltimore's code is BWI. The Dulles code is WAS. Not even remotely similar. I have no idea how I screwed this one up. I could understand if I had confused Reagan and Dulles - DCA and DCA.

In fact, at the JetBlue counter, I asked a woman what the airport code was, and she said DCA. I accepted it blindly. So someone should clue her in.

So, basically, I was on the phone with my dad for about 20 minutes, and I was crying the whole time. Sometimes sniffling, other times I had the occasional "sobbing-so-hard-I-can't-catch-my-breath" thing going on. I was so distraught because 1) I wanted to go home. So badly. I did NOT want to go back to my apartment, then go to an airport the next day. It was too much to bear...and 2) What a STUPID mistake. Here I am, trying to pretend that I'm a cool grownup with my work outfit and business cards and wheeling suitcase, and I call my parents crying my eyes out.

I went to the AirTran counter to try to get a rebate, and the guy was pretty horrified by the crying girl in front of him. He offered to call AirTran mainframe people for me, so while I was waiting, I called E, crying. She said that she'd come to get me, immediately.

Back on the phone with my dad, he said that there was a JetBlue flight leaving at 8:30, and I should check the price. I went to the counter, and the woman said that it was $155. I said that it was too expensive, so I walked away. My parents called me, and told me that I should get on it, and they'd pay for it. I said no, I could take a cab to BWI at 4 am the next morning, and they said no, give the woman my credit card.

I purchased the ticket, and the woman told me to run. As fast as I could. The flight was leaving in 15 minutes.

I was that obnoxious girl cutting everyone in line...I threw my stuff on the belt, unzipped my boots in record time. My bag was flagged, of course, and this hot security guard grabbed my suitcase, and took out my wonderful hair stuff. He grimaced, and said "We might have to get rid of this..."

Ordinarily, I'd try to turn on the charm. But this time I started crying again (I was pretty much in a perma-crying state), and snarled "JUST GET RID OF IT, THEN! AARRRGGGHHHHHH!"

Then I ran to the shuttle, nearly knocking over people, and my little wheeled suitcase went on one wheel. I pulled up to the shuttle stop, breathing heavily and embarrassingly out of breath. Where I waited for six minutes for the stupid thing to return, making awkward small talk with the shuttle guys. I got in, and they let the thing leave 10 minutes earlier than it should have, possibly screwing over anyone else behind me trying to make a flight. Oooops.

Crossing the plane driving area, we stopped to let a freaking plane cross. I was like "I WANT TO RRUUNNNNN" and this poor senegalese guy was trying to make me feel better by talking to me.

The shuttle came to a stop, and I shot out of it, and burst to the gate like a bat out of hell.

The woman at the desk was nonplussed by my ridiculousness. And told me that the flight was delayed for 35 minutes. I said, "THANK GOD" and the crying stopped.

And the real me returned. I shot her a look (I think she saw the panic leave my eyes and the cunning return) and I said, "How long has the flight been delayed?"

She said, "A while."

The whore at the first counter HAD TOTALLY MESSED WITH ME.

Comments:
Meg-
I don't mind saying that Jamie and I were laughing our asses off that entire entry. Except maybe for the crying part. So we didn't laugh much.
 
I agree...that was pretty hilarious. And if nothing else, you got a STORY out of it, right?

A byproduct of disaster is always comedy.

Enjoy home, I'll catch you randomly at the bar sometime next week.
 
Hey Meg,

I have a few stories like that (minus the tears and wrong airport parts) with air travel. Quite hilarious though. Glad you made it home and the parents are forking over the cash.
 
That was great writing. I am glad November is almost here.
 
tk: I'm glad you guys laughed!!! I'm sorry the crying had to taint some of the humor :-)

jc: Exactly! I'm going to use it in my novel! Can't wait to surprisingly run into you!

liam: a comment from you!! hurray! My dad was trying to make me feel better, and he was like "I've gone to the wrong airport several times."
I stopped crying and asked "so what did you do?!"
and he responded, "oh, well I had a chauffeur and he brought me to the right airport."
*crying recommenced* hahaha

robert: thanks! a few errors, but I was rushing b/c I had to pick up my mom. Maybe it enhances the panicked feeling of the post?
 
So goodness... I was feeling for you the entire time, but I was also laughing, I'll admit.

It's one of those, because everything worked out okay, it's easy to laugh about. At the time though, it does feel like the world is coming to an end.

I'm glad to hear that you made it home safely: have a great time!
 
So THAT's what you were talking about! I get it now!

Ugh...my philosophy in life is to never go to Dulles ever. I've never been, but every single story I've ever heard about it has been about what a shithole it is...and that bitch at the first counter certainly doesn't do anything to fix that reputation!
 
Well Meg, I've had planes say they are delayed, and then take off on time. How much of a bitch would you think she is if she told you it was delayed, and then you ended up missing it?
 
Hey, at least you got on a flight! At least you didn't do something silly like book a flight to the wrong airport entirely...

Who would have ever thought that SJO was San Jose Costa Rica, and San Jose Cali, was SJC...
 
tc: thanks!

m: it's generally okay, I'd recommend it - it was definitely user-error this time that screwed it up.

bub: bub. please. obviously I'd rather run my ass off than miss the plane. But much like today, when we were in line with one bag of bread, and those miserable people in front of us didn't offer to let us cut...it would have been nice.

cam: AH! GREAT STORY! definitely write about it...or you know, video about it.
 
Read what I said again. :)
 
I'm not talking about morals, I'm talking about advertising.
 
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