Sunday, November 11, 2007
Sign
Because I was sick when I got home from Nicaragua I wasn't able to take my second trip to see my mom in Reno. She's been wanting me to come out for awhile, as I've only been once in the two years that she's been there. I actually had this entire weekend off from work, and Christopher was quite busy with some volunteer work so I decided that I could afford to fork over the $55 for the round-trip ticket, once again afforded to me by my buddies Mike and Mary.
On Friday afternoon I hauled myself to the pass bureau to buy my plane tickets. When you go they give you three of the old-school tickets that you might remember from being hauled back and forth from your divorced parents when you were a small child. Oh, wait...that was just MY childhood. Anyhow...you get one ticket for each leg of the trip and then a receipt that details your purchase. I mention this, because this will become an important part of the story in a minute. Anyway, moving on.
By the time I left work on Friday I was sort of having second thoughts about the trip. I was to fly to Sacramento, rent a car and then drive over the mountains to get to mom's all after working a full week of work and not arriving until 11:15pm. I was already tired, and sort of had a bad feeling about it. But, I went to Chipotle, finished packing and headed out to the airport, regardless. Flying on Frontier at night is easy because they have so few flights. There was no line when I approached the check-in counter and was sent to an agent "to the left." She was nice enough--a somewhat rare occurrence when you're a non-revenue passenger--and checked me in pretty quickly. When all was said and done she handed me my boarding pass, sans ticket. Now, I've been flying standby courtesy of Mike's airline employment for more than two years now, I pretty much get the drill and I know that my ticket needs to be stapled to my boarding pass. I asked the agent about that and she said, "no, I keep that here." In fairness to me, Frontier did just implement a new system for listing on flights, etc. so I thought that maybe this was all part of it. But I digress.
When all was said and done I had made it through check-in and security in literally eight minutes. I headed out to the concourse with more than an hour to kill and wandered around people watching and perfecting my texting-while-walking skills. About 8:40 I finally headed to the gate and handed my boarding pass to the gate agent and sat down to wait for my seat assignment. Less than a minute later the gate agent called me back to the podium and wanted to know where my ticket was. I told her that the ticket agent who checked me in had kept it and she said, "well, they shouldn't have done that." Great. "Well, should I go back up there? Can I call someone?" She called the ticket counter and the supervisor said that they'd look for it. I sat down and about five minutes later was called back up to the podium, "Um, yeah.." in her best Bill Lumbergh impersonation, "they weren't able to find it. Do you mind running up there and finding the person you talked to?" No, bitch, I don't mind that at this point I'm supposed to actually be getting on the plane in 10 minutes and you want me to go back out to the terminal, find my lost ticket and get through security and back to the gate in less than 30 minutes. What choice do I have? I started huffing it back to the terminal.
I approached the counter and told the first person I found what had happened who pointed me towards the supervisor and another girl who were working on something together. Both were super-nice and helpful and started looking for my ticket. After I told them which kiosk I had checked in at and describing who it was who helped me they went into the back room. They emerged a few minutes later lost ticket in-hand. Phew. After receiving a brief, but stern lecture from the supervisor about how I should never give my ticket to the agent at the counter when I check-in and that I always need to make sure that my priority is accurate, blah, blah, blah. By this point it was about 9:15, my flight was leaving at 9:45, "could I please just have my ticket?!" She apologized, she didn't know that I was trying to catch a flight right at that moment.
I headed towards the main security line, which I never go through because I always fly out of the A concourse and take the walkway rather than the train. As I was walking down the escalator I began digging around to find my driver's license. I vaguely remembered it being in my back pocket, but now it wasn't there. I grabbed my wallet. No dice. I checked all remaining pockets and stopped to dig in my bag. I could not find my license anywhere. Now, how the hell am I supposed to get through airport security without my ID? Not to mention the fact that even if I did get to Sacramento, there was no way for me to rent a car. At this point my adrenaline rush was piquing. I grabbed my cell phone, sat down and while chuckling--because that's all I could think of to do--and dialed my mom. "I don't know if I'm going to make it." I briefly recounted the evening's events up to that point and told her about the latest debacle with my license. While I was talking, still quite not ready to give up, I began retracing my steps: up the escalator, down the hallway, back to the check-in counter, back to security (which was now closed for the evening) and no driver's license. Okay, it's was 9:25. I clearly wasn't going to make it. Defeated, I sat down and called my mom and told her that this wasn't going to happen. I give up. She was disappointed, but understanding. If the ticket debacle wasn't enough of a sign, the losing of the driver's license was. I was not meant to go on the trip.
I went down to baggage claim to wait for my bag to return to me, played a million games of bubble breaker and salivated over the glass of wine that was waiting for me at home. After 45 minutes my bag had not made an appearance. I filed a claim, rode the shuttle back to my car and called it a night. Even after all that, the main concern I was pondering as I trekked home was how I was ever to do my hair without my hairdryer!?
On Friday afternoon I hauled myself to the pass bureau to buy my plane tickets. When you go they give you three of the old-school tickets that you might remember from being hauled back and forth from your divorced parents when you were a small child. Oh, wait...that was just MY childhood. Anyhow...you get one ticket for each leg of the trip and then a receipt that details your purchase. I mention this, because this will become an important part of the story in a minute. Anyway, moving on.
By the time I left work on Friday I was sort of having second thoughts about the trip. I was to fly to Sacramento, rent a car and then drive over the mountains to get to mom's all after working a full week of work and not arriving until 11:15pm. I was already tired, and sort of had a bad feeling about it. But, I went to Chipotle, finished packing and headed out to the airport, regardless. Flying on Frontier at night is easy because they have so few flights. There was no line when I approached the check-in counter and was sent to an agent "to the left." She was nice enough--a somewhat rare occurrence when you're a non-revenue passenger--and checked me in pretty quickly. When all was said and done she handed me my boarding pass, sans ticket. Now, I've been flying standby courtesy of Mike's airline employment for more than two years now, I pretty much get the drill and I know that my ticket needs to be stapled to my boarding pass. I asked the agent about that and she said, "no, I keep that here." In fairness to me, Frontier did just implement a new system for listing on flights, etc. so I thought that maybe this was all part of it. But I digress.
When all was said and done I had made it through check-in and security in literally eight minutes. I headed out to the concourse with more than an hour to kill and wandered around people watching and perfecting my texting-while-walking skills. About 8:40 I finally headed to the gate and handed my boarding pass to the gate agent and sat down to wait for my seat assignment. Less than a minute later the gate agent called me back to the podium and wanted to know where my ticket was. I told her that the ticket agent who checked me in had kept it and she said, "well, they shouldn't have done that." Great. "Well, should I go back up there? Can I call someone?" She called the ticket counter and the supervisor said that they'd look for it. I sat down and about five minutes later was called back up to the podium, "Um, yeah.." in her best Bill Lumbergh impersonation, "they weren't able to find it. Do you mind running up there and finding the person you talked to?" No, bitch, I don't mind that at this point I'm supposed to actually be getting on the plane in 10 minutes and you want me to go back out to the terminal, find my lost ticket and get through security and back to the gate in less than 30 minutes. What choice do I have? I started huffing it back to the terminal.
I approached the counter and told the first person I found what had happened who pointed me towards the supervisor and another girl who were working on something together. Both were super-nice and helpful and started looking for my ticket. After I told them which kiosk I had checked in at and describing who it was who helped me they went into the back room. They emerged a few minutes later lost ticket in-hand. Phew. After receiving a brief, but stern lecture from the supervisor about how I should never give my ticket to the agent at the counter when I check-in and that I always need to make sure that my priority is accurate, blah, blah, blah. By this point it was about 9:15, my flight was leaving at 9:45, "could I please just have my ticket?!" She apologized, she didn't know that I was trying to catch a flight right at that moment.
I headed towards the main security line, which I never go through because I always fly out of the A concourse and take the walkway rather than the train. As I was walking down the escalator I began digging around to find my driver's license. I vaguely remembered it being in my back pocket, but now it wasn't there. I grabbed my wallet. No dice. I checked all remaining pockets and stopped to dig in my bag. I could not find my license anywhere. Now, how the hell am I supposed to get through airport security without my ID? Not to mention the fact that even if I did get to Sacramento, there was no way for me to rent a car. At this point my adrenaline rush was piquing. I grabbed my cell phone, sat down and while chuckling--because that's all I could think of to do--and dialed my mom. "I don't know if I'm going to make it." I briefly recounted the evening's events up to that point and told her about the latest debacle with my license. While I was talking, still quite not ready to give up, I began retracing my steps: up the escalator, down the hallway, back to the check-in counter, back to security (which was now closed for the evening) and no driver's license. Okay, it's was 9:25. I clearly wasn't going to make it. Defeated, I sat down and called my mom and told her that this wasn't going to happen. I give up. She was disappointed, but understanding. If the ticket debacle wasn't enough of a sign, the losing of the driver's license was. I was not meant to go on the trip.
I went down to baggage claim to wait for my bag to return to me, played a million games of bubble breaker and salivated over the glass of wine that was waiting for me at home. After 45 minutes my bag had not made an appearance. I filed a claim, rode the shuttle back to my car and called it a night. Even after all that, the main concern I was pondering as I trekked home was how I was ever to do my hair without my hairdryer!?
# posted by Molly @ 7:31 PM 
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]
