“Travel is only glamorous in retrospect.”
Paul Theroux (1941 - ), Washington Post
Another first is eclipsed as I sit once again in the Philadelphia Tarpits waiting for the last possible plane ride back home. Funny my plans never include a trip to Philadelphia, but it appeared as the only hope left in a weather challenged world. I am continuously reminded of the old W.C. Fields quote “I spent a week in Philadelphia one day.” The scent of misfortune hung in the air like a rotting carcass when I looked at the ignorant itinerary a misguided travel agent booked for me. I can no longer stomach dealing with rookie travel agents whose only travel experience is between home and grandma’s house a couple blocks around the corner. They have little idea of what each of the destinations mean as they scroll though the list of possible connections. I have decided to forego using travel agents for the rest of my life. It is my greatest source of aggravation, much like I’m the dog of stupid dog tricks.
The first leg of my ill advised itinerary included a three hour delay in Chicago O’Hara on United while heading to Wilkes Barre. The very first thing they need to teach a new travel agent is the greatest opportunity for complete failure is flying into O’Hara anytime between December and December. In other words the only reason to fly United to Chicago is to get stranded in the airport, get a free roundtrip ticket you will never be able to use and acquire a consolation gift cheap shave kit that will rip the skin off your face like a serrated knife. In other words steer clear of O’Hara like it is ground zero for the black plague. Unfortunately in my quest for simplicity I decided to allow my client to carry my travel cost by using their inept travel agent and travel account.
The brutal carnage in O’Hara is no longer a surprise, if fact the long lines of anger red faced businessmen screaming at arrogant stone faced heartless gate agents surrounded by hordes of abandon families sleeping on the floor seems quite normal these days. The chaos is reminiscent of the fifth level of Dante’s Inferno,a place of constant pain and suffering requiring an eternity to endure. The scene at O’Hara is now so commonplace that it is not really worth writing about on the average travel day. My late night arrival at Wilkes Barre at 1:30 in the morning was only memorable because the airport did not have a single taxi waiting at ground transportation. Apparently the taxi drivers don’t like to drive down from Scranton to wait for fares, so it is necessary to wait for 30 minutes before the dispatcher can convince some bored Somalia to jump in his brother’s car and pick you up. I’m always thrilled about get into my hotel room at 2:30 am, knowing my meeting with the client is scheduled for 8:00 am on the opposite side of town.
The three days of meetings in Wilkes Barre was intensive and demanding with interactive sessions occurring all day then followed by the design team to working late into the night to refine solutions. This rigorous mental activity is always enhanced with sleep deprivation, poor dietary habits and excess consumption of caffeine. Compounding this type of impromptu business gymnastics is the usual array of technological complications, a broken scanner in the business center, the plotter at the printing service with a drive belt on back order, the compatibility issues between the computer networks and blackberry that receives email but won’t send.
On the last day we begin to allow ourselves the luxury of thinking about traveling back home to a familiar environment and some simple comforts. Reading the newspaper during breakfast dispelled any hope that the return trip would be easy with a front page lead story of “Chicago cancels over 400 Flights Due to Weather”. The dominos have been falling for the last 24 hours and there is no place in the entire aviation system that won’t be impacted by this severe hemorrhage. The team members begin watching flight status lists on the internet as the cancellations cascade both east and south. Wilkes Barre is a smaller regional airport with flight options that are extremely limited.
It didn’t take long to find out my United flight back through Chicago is cancelled. The call to our inexperienced travel agent revealed that she that booked me on the only available flight from Wilkes Berre without clearing it with me. With such a proud sense of accomplishment she told me that it was all taken care of and I was rescheduled on Delta from Wilkes Barre to Atlanta to Cincinnati to Kansas City. I truly think she was offended when I told her I would rather have her cut off my left nut and force feed it to me than to embark on visiting all nine levels of Dante’s inferno in a single day. With bad weather already a known factor how can anyone think that going through Atlanta and Cincinnati would accomplish anything but cause me great distress. Delta is the canary in the coal mine for the airline industry, the first sign of trouble Delta drops dead. In biology we would call Delta an indicator species, it’s the first place trouble is evident in a system. This is coupled with five bad experiences on Delta in Atlanta and another four bad experiences in Cincinnati on Comair, Delta’s dysfunctional little sister. This is absolutely the last place in the world to send me.
During one of my long stays in the Cincinnati is decided to look for a new name for the faltering airline. Delta is the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet and in mathematics is the symbol used to represent change. While I like the concept of change and foward thinking Delta is no longer worthy of the name with its frozen brutal uncaring approach. I carefully looked over each of the other Greek letters and their associated symbols and meanings in order to find a new replacement which better represent the airline. I was about ready to pick Iota meaning insignificance when I found that in court transcripts a small Delta represent the word defendant. How appropriate, maybe Delta is named correctly, we just need to change the capitalization.
Talking into my cell phone in a firm but decided tone I informed the travel agent that her first attempt at getting me home was a disaster and she should get back online to try again. Recognizing my own personal need to understand the situation I grab a computer. My first website I pull up is Google maps in order to determine other adjacent airports with better travel options than Wilkes Berre. Newark Airport is a two hour drive east but flights are typically full and most flights to Kansas City travel north into the problematic weather, not a particularly positive solution. Philadelphia is a two and a half hour drive south but it is the “tarpits” , a place where no one ever seems to escape alive. I’m still using solvent to remove tar and feathers from me from my last visit to Philadelphia Airport. However Southwest Airlines does have a direct flight from Philadelphia to Kansas City which is a reasonable option. I notice that driving to Philadelphia we pass Allentown, a city with a bit larger regional airport, which could have some options only an hour drive away.
The next step is to jump on the travel sites and look at available flights from Allenstown. In a minute a long list of options flash on the screen. Scrolling down the list the options, the obvious problem connections are discarded, Chicago already closed, Cleveland weather heading that way, Atlanta just because it’s Atlanta, Washington the delays are already piling up. Wait a minute, Charlotte appears and that airport is never crowded. The flight times are perfect plus they only want $450 for the ticket. This is truly my best option to get home tonight, a one hour drive and a connection through Charlotte. Before I can contact the travel agent, she calls me to inform me that the Cincinnati leg of the flight I was booked on was canceled. I must be psychic to realize that Cincinnati was a one way street to nowhere. It’s not that hard to understand especially if you travel frequently. I make the suggestion to fly from Allentown connecting in Charlotte on US Airlines, only to find in her eagerness to make up for her two stupid move she has booked me on an American Airline flight from Philadelphia connecting in Dallas. It is a lost cause that even Saint Michael could not remedy. Our modern world needs a new Saint for stupid travel agents so I can pray for their souls. The team is already loading the van for our unscheduled drive to Philadelphia. Reluctantly with a resignation of knowing with high certainty what my future is to be, I toss my travel bag into the trunk and jump into the passenger’s seat.
At first I am concerned with the high rate of speed our van was traveling until I find out that since we were switching airlines, the travel agent could not complete the reservation, so we have to get to the Philadelphia gate agent by 4:00 pm in order to convert our reservation into real seats on the flight. I look at my watch and note that it is12:45 with a two hour drive ahead of us. I silently realize that this is not going to happen and decide that it is every man for him self once we arrive at the Philadelphia airport. Without anyone noticing I fire up my computer, turn my broadband card, and start surfing for options out of Philadelphia, because by the time everyone get though the long customer service lines those reserved tickets will be long gone. I focus on a Midwest Airline connecting in Milwaukee. It’s a long shot since the Philadelphia delays may be such that I will probably miss the connection. Hoping for the best I booked the last seat on the 6:45 flight to Milwaukee without anyone in the van knowing what I was attempting. It was a selfish act of self preservation, I not going to the slaughterhouse without attempting an escape.
The high speed steeple chase ends with a furious gauntlet in Philadelphia rush hour traffic. Frantically we bolt from the rental car and jump the shuttle bus to the terminal. Each of the team members is balanced between sheer exhaustion and debilitating panic as they fidget in the fake leather seats. At the first stop the shuttle bus driver announces Terminal A which includes Midwest Airlines at which point I jump off the shuttle. I can hear the team member yelling at me that I’m not at the correct Terminal. I turn and reply “Sorry but you all are headed to a fool’s paradise and I would rather try to get home tonight. I release you all from any responsibility for my wellbeing.” Smiling I glance back to see three stunned faces wondering what went wrong with the plan, why the break in ranks?
Finding the Midwest Airline service desk I am the second in line behind an irate older businessman in a dark three piece suit who is reading the gate agent the riot act trying impress upon him just how important a traveler he is. The gate agent is restrained and polite as the egomaniac denounces every aspect of company policy, finally moving on to a personal attack on the gate agent’s character. This rant continues for over twenty minutes as the line of customers grows behind me. Apparently in his ignorance or more likely arrogance, this savvy world traveler decided not to come to the airport to check in since his flight was delayed for three hours and because of this failure to report his seat was released and given to another passenger. Unfortunately because of the weather delays the flight became oversold and there was no longer a seat to give him. In fact all the flights for the rest of the night were oversold and the alone option for this grotesque tyrant is to book a flight tomorrow.
Finally the gate agent realizes that this barking Philadelphia bulldog is not going to leave until he wins some sort of concession from the airline and this gate agent in particular. In a worthless gesture the gate agent decides to get the line moving again by offering Mr. Big a standby ticket on the last flight out. Waving the ticket as a captured enemy flag and cursing the soul of every airline employees he stomps off to spend the next three hours waiting at the gate with his worthless gesture for a flight he will never get on.
Feeling sorry for the gate agent I try to open the conversation in a conciliatory gesture. “Man, how did you ever keep your cool? I’m sorry I would have finally told that jerk where he could stuff that ticket. Why can’t they realize that it’s the weather isn’t not you?”
The gate agent looks up and shows a slight smile relieved from the past hour of abuse “How can I help you?”
Having just over heard the status of every flight heading to Milwaukee, I realize that my flight is also delayed three hours and there is no way of making my connection. I began in a voice which coveys the hopelessness of the situation, “Thanks, I was trying to get home to Kansas City tonight, but I understand that could be a long shot. I’ve got an interview tomorrow and getting to Milwaukee tonight would help a lot. No offense, but getting out of Philadelphia just suits me fine.”
Without responding the gate agent begins to diligently work at typing away at the computer in front of him. After about five minutes he looks up and hands me my ticket with a bit of a funny grin across his face. “You need to hurry and get to Gate 12.” At this point I’m confused since my flight is leaving from gate 17 and I know it is delayed three hours.
My confusion becomes evident and he explains “Don’t tell anyone but I put you on the earlier flight which was also delayed three hours, but is now just getting ready to push off from gate 12. The flight you were originally on is delayed long enough that you would miss your connection in Milwaukee and need to spend the night.” The slight grin on his face erupts into a huge smile as he tells me the punch line. Slightly leaning over the counter he whispers “I gave you the seat of that bastard that was giving me such a hard time. You better hurry it was the last seat on the plane.” I chuckle while thanking him profusely, finally ending our shared secret with a warm handshake. “Can’t tell you how much that makes my day.”
The shock begins to wear off as I hurry to my gate realizing that this gesture of kindness will allow me to make it home less than two hours late. Most gratifying is that it will be at the expense of Mr. Big, the arrogant business traveler that knew how to bully the system and ended up waiting another three hours before he is told of go away and come back tomorrow. Quite an accomplishment all things considered. The travel gods are smiling. Finally sitting in my seat it occurs to me that I was booked on eleven separate flights today and the revenge of the gate agent allowed me safe passage home.
As I’m settling into the seat my cell phone rings with one of the team members. “Mr. Blue, You wouldn’t believe it, we stood in line for almost two hours and when we got to the desk they had given away our seats. We are now headed back to your terminal, they told us there is room on the delayed Midwest flight to Milwaukee, but we’ll miss our connection and need to spend the night. Are you still on that flight?”
With a slight feeling of guilt I acknowledge “No I was able to jump a different flight and will make the Milwaukee connection.”
“Good for you. How did you know to break rank and head to Midwest Airline?”
“I’ve been doing this a long time and I just knew by looking at the situation that dog don’t hunt. By the way say thanks to your travel agent, I think it might be a long time before I talk with her again”
The voice on the other end of the phone sadly confirm the thought “Yeah I know what you mean”
“Travel only with thy equals or thy betters; if there are none, travel alone.”
The Dhammapada
