It all started with the thrill of getting out of a 4-day Wound Management Course at Emory hours early. Awesome. I checked and there was a 4pm flight (I was scheduled on the 655pm flight). I went to the check in monitors, paid $50 to change, checked my ba and went to the gate.
THE THRILL IS....GONE!
It went downhill from there. I get to the gate and I see that the flight is delayed until 5:55pm. Ummm, okay. I'm annoyed, but I will still get home a little early. I went to the bar, of course, had a drink (or two), made small talk with the bar maid and went back to the gate to play Mafia Wars on my computer (People to attack, Jobs to do).
When I get to my gate, I see that they decided to move it from B9 to B27. BINGO! Just a little haul, but no biggie. I get to B27, post up a seat, open up my laptop and commence to kicking some upstart Mafia wanna be for the very notion of trying to rob me. Pity the Fool. In the background, that idjit, Ron Christie, was on CNN again - whining about something & makin my eye twitch...and then he said it..."For Goodness Sake." In that moment, I wished to God I really had a Tactical shotgun in my bag cause that sniviling "proud black man" who can't see a racial slur when it slaps him the face brings out a rage of violence in me sumptin' awful.
But I digress.
Just as I had reached a new level in Mafia Wars, an announcement was made that our delayed flight was no CANCELLED. DA HELL YOU SAY...and if tat don't just chap your azz...they announced that we were all re-booked on the 9am flight out THE NEXT MORNING!!!! WTF. Not me playa. Somebody gonna fix that shayt and PDQ.
All the passengers were directed to the service desk across from B19 to pick up our boarding passes & hotel vouchers. I get to the Kiosk (it was not a desk of any kind) wit some rather unprofessional lookin chicks standing there, repeating the same mumbo jumbo over and over. The only thing these chicks were doing was scanning your old boarding pass, handing out the vouchers and sending people on their way. The refused to answer any questions and the chick in my line said, in response to an inquiry, "That's not my job." Well, guess what...she don't know bout me and I'm bout to MAKE it her job.
TravelDiva: I'm bout to make this your job...you have a Delta uniform on & a name tag that says Service Rep...helping passenger IS your job.
Kiosk Chick: You don't have to take your frustration out on me. You'll have to go and use one of the Red Service Phones if you want additional help. I can't help you beyond giving you your voucher.
TD: Da Hell You Say. Looka here..If you don't like to serve then perhaps you should get a different job.
KC: *stunned* Blinking her green contacts (that made her look like snake eyes) at me. You need to take your attitude to the red phone.
TD: Imma do that (insert name here)...and I'll be sure to mention your name and what you think your job isn't. I snatched my paperwork and moved to the RED PHONE.
My paperwork included a new boarding pass for the 9am flight. HUMPH. A voucher for the Red Roof Inn and 2- $7 meal vouchers...one for dinner and one for breakfast. ARE YOU SERIOUS? I ain't staying in no Red MFn' Roof Inn. Aren't the doors exposed to the outside elements? And what da hell am I supposed to eat with $7 MFn' dollars. ARE YOU FRIGGIN SERIOUS?
Obviously Delta was.
I picked up that Red Pone so damn fast I almost hit myself with it. I got a pleasent lady on the phone who immediately sensed my....AGITATION...and she got busy. She immediately put me on standby for my original flight, check how many open seats their were and told me I had a good chance of making it. She also refunded my $50. All of this the Kiosk chick refused, was unwilling or didn't know how to do. BYATCH.
Now, remember I'm in Terminal B. My standby flight is at (wait for it)..Terminal E. Ummmm...I got 20 min before that flight is supposed to leave. Here goes the OJ run thru the airport again. FUUUUU$%#K.
I did NOT give up cursing for Lent.
I hauled it to Terminal E, Gate effin 33 (the last damn gate) and when I get there, the sign is blinking "CANCELLED". GTFOOH! NO FRIGGIN WAY. Imagin my despair, my hostility. Who da hell is playing this cruel, sick joke on me. Tell me now so I can beat them about the neck & shoulders. I just stood there, looking around and I noticed that most of the passengers look nonplussed about the situation...Hmmmm....what's going on. I went up to the gate counter - come to find out, the flight is NOT cancelled after all. The flight number had changed only and they were trying to fix the sign. WHEW. I still had a chance.
While all of this was going on, Babs had heard about my plight over the Facebook airwaves and came to my rescue. I was NOT gonna have to rough it at the RRI...I was gonna hang with BABS! SAVED. I love my friends. I love the Tribe. Ya'll Rock!
Back up plan in place, hovered at the counter waiting for them to tcall my name. After what seemed like forever, I got me a boarding pass.
The TravelDiva was going home!
I was felling mighty low...but then he called my name. That was when I knowed there waz a Gawd.
Why, oh Why does there have to be some sort of drama everytime I get near an airport. Splain that to me, please.
