BAGGAGE BLUES

LESSON – Baggage check is a nightmare. Stick to having a single carry-on or struggle with long lines, broken ‘self-service’ machines, and other crazy stuff.

I don’t know if my air trip around the US could have started off any rougher. 

Last weekend I sold, donated, and packed up all my items in Seattle. I created one huge suitcase to take to Houston for storage with my parents. This bag contains clothes that I may claim later on my voyage.

So far I’ve kept all my weekly items for my work in Philadelphia in a carry-on. I’ve never had to check bags in. Security check is usually extremely quick and I wasn’t expecting baggage check to be any different. I made it to the airport an hour before my flight, and the lines for my US Airways flight were not long. I finally got up to the front of the line and used their self-service machine for baggage check.

The infernal machine claimed that I needed an attendant. I waited helplessly as all the attendents were helping a single customer in the line next to me. The attendent never even raises her head to acknowledge my presence. I’m too laid back to yell and scream.

Minutes pass. My wait time feels like eternity. Finally, an attendant far away notices me and attempts to help me. It’s too late… baggage can only be checked in 45 minutes before a flight. It is 43 minutes before the flight. I’m in agony.

The attendent who I was hopelessly waiting for pipes in and says I wasn’t waiting long. Agony turns into a healthy thirst for blood. I try to get her name. She refuses. I ask for a manager. Nothing. Bastards!

The most they will give me is a new ticket for the next morning. I let my parents in Texas know the time of my flight and then I spend the next hour and a half running around the airport with my massive suitcase, my carry-on, my laptop case, and my wounded ego. 

The airport Marriot is so full that I can’t get a reservation even as a Platinum member. I guess it’s good for a bowl of fruit but doesn’t mean jack for emergencies. I decide that joining the United Airlines Red Carpet Membership club would be a great idea so I could camp out there until the next morning. I’m a couple thousand miles short of purchasing a membership so I spend the $400. I then embark on the quest to find the club lounge. It isn’t until I drag myself (baggage et all) to the right terminal that I realize I need to go through a security check to get in. My flight isn’t till tomorrow, so they won’t do it.

I make my way over to baggage claim to use the phones. Every hotel is booked. Suddenly I’m considering the possibility of building a shelter in the corner of the airport to spend the next 10 hours. I relax, calm down and make a few more phone calls.

The Ramada has only one room free. It has an airport shuttle. Halleluja! In the back of my mind, I expect that the hotel to be a dump. Why would everything else within a 20 mile radius be completely booked? It actually turned out to be one of the best hotels I’ve every been at. Although it had no internet access, the Philadelphia Airport Ramada was a winner and was realtively cheap.

After a Long Island Ice Tea, a Club Sandwich, and a Miami vs Detroit BBall game, I went to bed. I needed to wake up extra early in order to check in my luggage for my 7:50 AM flight.

The next morning I take my shuttle to the Philadelphia airport. One glance at the US Airways terminal and I realize I’m in for another headache. The lines start outside the airport for baggage check. There are very few attendents. 

As I approach the front of my line, our self-self machine breaks. We panic. It seems to be happening with every other line. I wonder if there are any records of riots in baggage claim lines? Our attendent is no slacker and she’s getting threats from every one who approaches the register. More and more people lose their temper as she tells them she can’t check their luggage in due to th 45 minute rule. They claim that they’ve been in line for hours. She has to give them the company line. I feel bad for her.

By the time I’m being helped, it’s an hour before my flight… well outside the 45 min rule. She tells me there is no more room on the plane for baggage. She looks at me gritting her teeth like I’m going to smack her with my 49 pound suitcase.

I stay calm. I ask her for the next flight. She gives me one in two hours. I grin and check in my luggage. I ask her if things are always this rough. She says that I’m the first one to smile at her in the last few hours. I let her know that I wasn’t as kind to my last attendant. She smiles at me.

There are very few jobs that I would never consider doing. Her’s would be one of them. US Airways is definately going bankrupt.

Fortunately, I made the flight to Houston on standby. The plane was awesome. Two seats on each side, and each seat felt like first class. No movies, but more leg room than I’m had in months. 

Best honey-roasted peanuts ever. With one more travel lesson under my belt, I was ready to see my parents.

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