My flight was scheduled to leave at 3:55 pm, and it was 2:30 pm. I didn’t even glance at the departure board as I 121never had an issue getting out of Sarasota before. In fact, it was the Atlanta leg of my flight that always worried me. Luckily, I found a flight that gave me a 90 minute buffer between the time I was scheduled to arrive in Atlanta, and the time I was scheduled to take off toward Rochester. I used the self check-in station by quickly sliding my credit card into the slot (per the directions on the screen). Nothing. I typed in the three digit code of my final destination by clumsily pointing and pushing the letters “R...O.... and C.” Nothing. I selected the time of day my flight was scheduled to leave by deliberately poking my index finger on the “Mid Afternoon” option. Nothing. I fished my itinerary from my black carry-on bag to find the flight number. I figured this had to do the trick. It did.
I expertly navigated through the screens until I got to the question “Are you checking any bags today?” I was begrudgingly forced to select “Yes.” I was on my way to NY for a week of business meetings, so I had a very bulky hanging bag with all my business clothes in it. It was an inevitability that I had to check the monstrosity. I was perplexed by what happened next. It was still 90 minutes before my plane was scheduled to takeoff, yet the screen read “It is too late to check luggage for this flight. Please see Agent.”
This perplexed the agent as well. Now what?
A pow wow of sorts had begun to take place amongst the tribe of Airline agents. They whispered what appeared to be concerned statements at one another, and they took turns looking over their shoulders at me. I’m not sure if they were gauging my current demeanor, or sizing me up to see if I could be taken down if it indeed came to fisticuffs. After a few moments my original agent returned to me and said my flight out of Sarasota was delayed. Therefore if I checked a bag, there was no way it would make its way onto the plane destined for Rochester. So, even if I was able to gather my carry-ons and matriculate my way onto my next plane, I would be wearing the same clothes tomorrow as I was wearing today. This did not seem like a positive notion. I asked the agent what my other options were. I expected her to shrug her shoulders and say something vague. I got what I expected. I asked additional questions that required simple answers, primarily requiring just a “yes” or a “no.”
"Will there be any chance of my other flight out of Atlanta being delayed as well?"
“Yes.”, she replied.
"Are there any additional flights from Atlanta to Rochester today?"
“Yes.”, she mumbled.
"Are there any open seats on this flight you speak of?"
“No.”, she answered.
Finally, I asked, “What should I do?”
I was greeted with a sheepish smile and a second shoulder shrug. I had stumped her with an open ended question. This was not the reaction for which I had hoped. A second pow wow commenced. I waited patiently. Patience was all I had at that point; as I was two and a half hours early for my flight out of Sarasota and had nothing else to do.
The agent came back to greet me with a permanently sheepish and ever increasingly awkward grin pasted on her face. At this point, I decided I need to get closer to her. Our relationship had gone beyond the normal passenger-agent phase. We had become dependent on one another. I needed her to get me to my destination along with my luggage, and she needed me not to break into a fit of rage and cause a national incident. I looked at her badge and saw it read “Kim S.” Before she had a chance to give me a report on the recent pow wow, I leaned in and said, “Kim S, please tell me you have good news.”
She looked me right in the eye and started to speak. “Well...” She was immediately cut off by the extremely loud throat clearing coming from mustachioed agent further down the check in counter. He appeared to be the man in charge, the “Alpha Agent” if you will. Due to the proximity between he and I, his name tag was unreadable. He exclaimed to the growing crowd of people who were in the same predicament as I was “Ladies and gentleman, the flight from Sarasota to Atlanta has been delayed. It will not be here until 3:55 pm, and after everyone deplanes and we get a go-ahead from the FAA to take off; you will be on your way to Atlanta.” He paused, and seemed satisfied with himself as if what he said was a satisfactory answer. The crowd showed him quickly that it indeed was not.
“What about all of us that aren’t staying in Atlanta? What about all of our flights to other destinations?”, one gentleman exclaimed.
“Will the other flights also be delayed, can we make our connections, or do we need to look for later flights now?”, another woman posed.
I had a much more rhetorical question that pointed out the ambiguity of his prior statement. “Isn’t that how all flights work? We wait for the other people to get off the plane, then we get on, and the pilots take off with permission from the FAA. “
A chuckle from the passengers was followed by a few stern glances from the agents, and a hearty clearing of the throat from the Alpha Agent who had made the ambiguous statement I was calling out. I looked over at Kim S. and she was hiding a smirk behind her petite hand. Apparently, our brief connection had made more of an impact on her than I thought. She obviously enjoyed the uncomfortable discourse the Alpha Agent was having to endure. She caught me catching her mid-smirk,. She quickly called me back over to her. She had a much more professional and confident tone in her voice now.
She said to me, “In my experience, delays like this do have a tendency to push most flights into slight delays. Especially if the incoming flight is coming from the same area of the country. Let me see where your connecting flight is coming from, that should tell us which option you should take. That should only take a moment Mr. Hamilton.”
“Kim… you can call me Wade.” I said. The sheepish grin returned.
She continued, “Okay Wade, your connecting flight is coming from Washington, DC. There is a good chance it will be delayed coming out of DC or once it touches down in Atlanta. I think your best bet is to check that bag, and have it tagged to go on the original connection. That is what I would do.”
That was exactly the confident endorsement I needed. Kim S. I slung my hanging bag up onto the scale. Kim S tagged it quickly and expertly, then sent me on my way. I headed toward gate B4 where I would be spending the next 150 minutes of my life. I expressed my appreciation without any fain of sarcasm, and smiled as unsheepishly as my facial muscles could portray.
As I walked away, she shouted “Thank you for your patience Mr. Hamilton.”
I turned and glared back at her. She corrected herself. “I’m sorry, thank you for your patience Wade.”
I thought to myself, “That's more like it Kim.”
I looked directly into the eyes of the Alpha Agent as I walked by him on my way to the gate. I glanced down at his badge, and it read “Lars.” How fitting is that? As I looked back up he said,” Thank you for your patience sir.” My mind immediately searched through as many movie references as it could for the proper retort. The top five that swirled in my head were:
- It’s Mr. Hamilton to you.
- You had me at Ladies and Gentlemen.
- We’ll always have Sarasota.
- Frankly Lars, I don’t give a damn.
- Go fuck yourself
I decided to go with #6, none of the above. I walked right by him and said nothing. I’ll let Kim S have her day. She earned it.
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