Flightmare Part 2

Have you ever noticed how, in the movies of the 50s and 60s, when people are disembarking from a plane, it is always nice an sunny out? I'm thinking of movies like "Daddy Longlegs" and "The Parent Trap". Back then they didn't have these big planes with the connecting bridge so you just walk from gate to cabin without stepping outside. Well, that's how the planes in Erie roll.

This would all be fine if it weren't for the torrential downpour that greeted us in Philadelphia! we had to run, with our bags, from the steps of our airplane to the airport. It was probably at least a 30 yard dash. The two of us were drenched and the airport was about 10 degrees below freezing!

In Philly, they have all the small planes come into Gate F, but if you are transferring to a larger plane (as we were) you have to go to one of the other gates. We were headed for Gate B. Unfortunately, in order to get there (unless you want to go through security again) you have to take a bus. So, it was out into the elements for us once more!

I'll spare my dear readers all the gory details. Suffice it to say that, after at least one further gate change and a delay, it turned out that our flight to Charlotte wasn't going to make it in time for our final connection to Jacksonville.

Again we waited in line, this time to find out how we would get to our destination. We were given the option of just delaying our flight to Jacksonville until 6:45pm (awesome!) Fortunately we had a Plan B...get us to Wilmington. They did book us on a flight to Wilmington leaving, of course, from Gate F!

There was much scrambling to get my car rental reservation moved from Jacksonville to Wilmington and, after a quick bite, we made our way back to the small plane area. It was probably ridiculous to think that we would leave on time for this flight, I guess, because when our boarding time was near, we heard otherwise. A woman, speaking English but doing so as if she had a mouthful of marbles, informed us that our plane was ready, we were just wanting a crew. About an hour later Marbles told us that we had a plane, a crew and a lightning storm that would not be safe for the ground workers. Another half hour and they were getting us onto the plane.

We finally arrived in Wilmington and headed straight for the Budget car rental. A man, looking suspiciously like my mother's long-lost cousin, brusquely greeted us and asked for our confirmation number. I tried to explain our situation as I pulled out my laptop to get the confirmation number I had emailed to me when I made the change. That took too long for him so he deigned to look it up based on my last name. He found the reservation, but when we asked if we could return it to Jacksonville rather than Wilmington he told us we would need to step aside to make a new reservation!

I figured it would be fine to just say "screw it" and return the car to Wilmington and get a ride when we were leaving. However, when he saw my Driver's License, he asked me if it was my current address. I (stupidly) answered honestly that it wasn't and he told me he couldn't rent me a car. He directed us to the next desk down and said they would probably do it.

We shuffled ourselves to the next desk down where the woman was happy to rent me a 16 passenger van! We shuffled again. Finally, at Alamo we met with some aid. The manager was there training a new staff member and he rented us a car AND allowed us to return it to Jacksonville without charging us the exorbitant 1 way fee.

It was at least 4pm at this point, and we had suffered through a good 12 hours of grueling travel. I'm pretty sure we could have driven it in about the same mount of time (Google Maps claims it would take 12.5 hours) with much fewer headaches! In the end, we were safe and sound and we did wind up having a really nice time on our vacation within a vacation!

Flightmare Part 1

I have recently been informed that it has been about "36 years" since my last post. My calculations are slightly more conservative, but I understand the sentiment. Obviously my tidbits are greatly missed by the public and who am I to deprive the world of my genius?

Last Thursday I flew (with my mother) to visit family in Wilmington, NC. It was sort of a mini vacation within a vacation. We were flying out of Erie, PA at the ungodly hour of 5am. That meant we had to be up and on the road to the airport around 4am. I had gotten in at 12am from a night out howling and my brother woke me at about 4 to get going. We had to drive to pick up my mother, but when we got there the house was pitch black. We went inside and realized that the alarm didn't go off! Even so, we were on the road fairly quickly and 30 minutes later, arrived for our flight.

Most of my readership has visited the Erie International Airport, Tom Ridge Field and you know that it is approximately the size of an anemic Kmart. There are two check in desks, one magazine stand, and one diner-type restaurant. There is also only one line to go through security and 3 gates. Now, I have never had to wait in line behind more than two or three people at security. However, this time there was a line about 10 people deep with approximately 8 TSA staff on hand staring at one screen. Honestly, it would have been quicker for each staffer to select a passenger for a complete pat-down and bag search. Meanwhile, they are announcing our flight (you can see the gate from the security line) and final boarding. Finally, my mother gets through security (after having her hands swabbed) and I quickly follow. I am waiting for my duffle bag to come out on the conveyor belt but security holds me up. I tell my mom to go on without me, I'm sure it will just be a minute while they swipe it for explosives. I suspect there isn't much opportunity for racial profiling at the EIA so they must resort to actually picking passengers at random.

Unfortunately, it wasn't just a matter of a routine swab. Something suspicious had actually shown up on the monitor. The agent was very nice when he asked me to step to the side while he went through my bags. He searched my bags and they went through the scanner two more times before he discovered a pair of scissors that were within the regulations so I could board with them.

In the meantime, according to my mother, she was told that she must board the plane. She let everyone she passed know that her daughter was "just getting her bags checked" and asked if they could hold the plane. They told her no so she morphed from a rational woman to a hysterical person in a matter of seconds. She said that she was crying and calling my father (who, oddly, has very little influence with the TSA) and she stood in the doorway to the plane, sticking her head out, waiting for me to arrive.

When I heard that, I thought she was probably lucky not to be kicked off the flight herself. They did hold the plane and I got on. We flew to Philadelphia without further incident but that is not to say that the headaches of the day were over.

To Be Continued...