Getting Home
While in Oahu, waiting for my next leg of my journey home, I got a call from Hawaiian Airlines telling me that the next leg of my flight had been postponed from 9:25 last night until 6:15 this morning. I told them that was unacceptable, and to mollify me, they offered me 300 more frequent flier miles.
I went to the counter, waited in line for 45 minutes, and haggled with the clerk, who managed to get me on a United flight that left in 30 minutes. So, to make the flight, I had to run down the length of Honolulu Airport to get to the United Airlines terminal, which was as far away from the Hawaiian terminal as it is possible to be and still be in the same airport. I had two laptop computers and a camera as part of my carry-on luggage, so I had to use about six plastic bins to accommodate all my stuff going through the X-ray machine. After getting through, I was tagged for “further screening,” which means I almost missed the flight because they insisted on frisking me down and rummaging through my souvenir bags to see if the plastic Volkswagen Beetles with surfboards on them that I ghad bought for my three boys were hiding explosives.
I finally got to the boarding area, and they almost refused to let me on the plane, because even though the flight was still there, the flight had been “closed.” I raised a sufficient stink that they finally let me on, but not without telling me what an inconvenience it was for them. I was seated in a middle seat between a sweaty guy and an old lady. I took four Tylenol PMs and did my best to sleep through the whole dang thing, but I could never extend my legs, and they came and barked at me before take-off for having my seat partially reclined, because all seats must be in an upright position for takeoff and about ten minutes after take-off. Why? Don’t ask why. On an airplane, you’re cattle. Shut up and moo.
We arrived at LAX at 4:45 this morning, and my leg from LAX to Salt Lake City didn’t leave for another three hours. I found a corner of the terminal and slept with my feet draped over my carry-ons. I had a fairly decent seat on this flight, and I slept peacefully on the way home, only to discover that my checked luggage hadn’t made the transfer to United, and nobody was quite sure where it was.
Doesn’t matter. I’m home now. The end. Must sleep more.
I went to the counter, waited in line for 45 minutes, and haggled with the clerk, who managed to get me on a United flight that left in 30 minutes. So, to make the flight, I had to run down the length of Honolulu Airport to get to the United Airlines terminal, which was as far away from the Hawaiian terminal as it is possible to be and still be in the same airport. I had two laptop computers and a camera as part of my carry-on luggage, so I had to use about six plastic bins to accommodate all my stuff going through the X-ray machine. After getting through, I was tagged for “further screening,” which means I almost missed the flight because they insisted on frisking me down and rummaging through my souvenir bags to see if the plastic Volkswagen Beetles with surfboards on them that I ghad bought for my three boys were hiding explosives.
I finally got to the boarding area, and they almost refused to let me on the plane, because even though the flight was still there, the flight had been “closed.” I raised a sufficient stink that they finally let me on, but not without telling me what an inconvenience it was for them. I was seated in a middle seat between a sweaty guy and an old lady. I took four Tylenol PMs and did my best to sleep through the whole dang thing, but I could never extend my legs, and they came and barked at me before take-off for having my seat partially reclined, because all seats must be in an upright position for takeoff and about ten minutes after take-off. Why? Don’t ask why. On an airplane, you’re cattle. Shut up and moo.
We arrived at LAX at 4:45 this morning, and my leg from LAX to Salt Lake City didn’t leave for another three hours. I found a corner of the terminal and slept with my feet draped over my carry-ons. I had a fairly decent seat on this flight, and I slept peacefully on the way home, only to discover that my checked luggage hadn’t made the transfer to United, and nobody was quite sure where it was.
Doesn’t matter. I’m home now. The end. Must sleep more.
posted by Elder Samuel Bennett | 2:57 PM
2 Comments:
You can actually sleep on an airplane?
I took lots of Tylenol PM.
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