Written Tuesday, April 14th @ LAX
So I ordered my ticket online on Saturday night to do an apartment hunting trip in DC. (Last week, Organization X offered me an exciting position with a May 12th start date.)
I tried to check in online but was informed that service was unavailable because I had been issued a paper ticket, which I had not been. Not to worry, I’d be at the airport early for my red eye flight. I leave my car off at a friend’s place, because her residential block has no street cleaning rules, so it can sit there undisturbed until I get back.
After being dropped at the terminal listed on the itinerary I printed off, I am unable to check in. Apparently, my airline takes off from that terminal during the day, but at night it takes off from the opposite side of the airport, 2 terminals away. So I book it to Terminal 2 – on foot, schlepping my duffle and laptop bag because it’s faster than waiting for the shuttle—and try to check in.
Now the computer doesn’t even recognize my confirmation code, which is starting to make me anxious. Do I have a seat or not? So I flag down someone wearing a badge from the airline, and he directs me to wait for the one of two late shift ticket agents.
There are two men who ahead of me trying to get on a flight to Detroit, but since they had not checked 45 in minutes in advance, the airline was refusing to seat them. The plane was boarding and there would be no further check ins.
One whiney, unshaven twenty something in a gray hoodie and jeans insists he needs to be on the plane, but other wise waits quietly. They other, an arrogant, balding middle aged male – you know the type: sports jacket, button down, no tie, waving a fancy cell phone that could launch nuclear weapons—is making a spectacle. Aggressively arguing with the ticket agent that he was in line 45 minutes in advance, and she is going to put him on THAT flight come hell or high water. His condescension of agent “Monica” continues as he insists she’s “something special,” when she tells him, sorry, the flight is closed and no, there is nothing else she can do.
Raising his voice, for all to hear the plight of the first class ticket holder who didn’t make it to the ticket counter on time, he tries to get Delta – the airline that put him on this Northwestern operated flight — on the phone while he continues his diatribe after she informs him there is only one seat left on the plane—wait for it—in Coach. The whiney kid says he’ll take it if that guy isn’t jumping on it. Baldy is disgusted; he doesn’t fly Coach. He flies FIRST class. Nonetheless, after talking to the gate, neither guy is getting on a flight to Detroit tonight.
Monica waves me over as the entitled premier flyer guy continues his rant, and we both try to ignore him while I explain what was going on with my ticket. He physically inserts himself in front of me, demanding to know “why, [Monica] won’t help [him]?” We do our best to ignore him as we try to find the best seat left on my flight – in Coach. Security arrived to deal with the prick as I walked away from the counter, since he was dangerously close to crossing the line.
I’m flying to DC overnight with a layover in Milwaukee of all places. My return flight includes a layover in Pittsburg and Las Vegas. I see more airports than anyone else I know when I travel because a $254 round trip ticket with 3 layovers is the price I can afford at this juncture of my life. And I’m OK with that reality.
Someday, should I be so lucky as to travel business and first class everywhere, either because I’m an independently wealthy author or so-valued by my employer or whatever, I’d like to think that I’ll remember that the ticketing agent is my best shot at getting where I need to go expediently.
Rather than accept he missed a flight and congenially ask what the next step is in getting him to his final destination as close to his originally scheduled arrival time as possible, he went into full blown verbal assault mode. Did he really think Monica was more likely to accommodate a gesturing, abrasive customer than an accommodating one that just needed to get from A to B?
I also hope that I’ve never so self-important that I can’t be bothered to print my boarding pass at home like the peons who fly coach when that option is available to me and gives me more wiggle room at the airport.
PS. Angry, self-important guy wound up in First Class on my flight to Milwaukee, so I guess he found a way to get closer to Detroit, one flight at a time.
PPS. Army guy in fatigues on crutches with a broken leg sat several seats behind me. The flight crew moved him up so he had 2 neighboring first class seats to get comfortable in with his leg elevated. Not sure if they made the move because of the fatigues/crutches combo, but it was great to see staff take the initiative to make the flight of an injured party a little more comfortable.
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