Weekend away in CT to visit family, and attend my cousin’s wedding. A lovely affair that was almost tainted by the bumblings and fumblings of American Airlines.
Strike One
There are many ways to get from Connecticut to South Carolina. One can take flights from Bradley or Tweed. One can take Breeze, Avelos, and Spirit. One can even drive. Sometimes, due to timing or circumstance, the best option is American Airlines, but after vowing to never fly them again, I was forced to book them for this past weekend.
When I flew down in May to meet the movers, my plane was delayed in Hartford, putting me behind in Charlotte and late into Myrtle Beach. Fortunately, that was the only mishap on the flight down.
Let’s discuss the flight home.
The movers were done by Saturday morning, and I could have rented a car and made it home with enough time to sleep before my daughter’s Monday morning graduation.
As it was only my second time in the Low Country, I decided to stay as planned and fly out Sunday. Even though the flight was later in the day, I was scheduled to be in Hartford by midnight (see the slumber plan above).
I may have covered this before, so I will sum up. My flight from Myrtle to Charlotte was delayed. My flight from Charlotte was delayed, delayed, delayed, then cancelled.
I slept for 20 minutes on the FLOOR of Charlotte Airport. Not the sugary sleep I was hoping for. I made it to my daughter’s graduation (albeit a bit late), but I had to Mad Max down 84 to do so.
Strike Two
Again, due to timing and our work schedules, I begrudgingly booked American a couple months in advance for the wedding. By the time we flew, the flight had increased over $700 round trip. Luckily, I had purchased the price lock, but I cannot imagine paying $1,000 plus to sit in “Main Cabin.” This is a euphemism for steerage.
We only had two small bags and our garment bag with our formal clothes for the wedding. We decided to check the garment bag as the flights are always “full” and “carry on” space is limited.”
Due to this inevitability (does Thanos run AA?), the airline allowed us to check my carry-on for free. Two bags checked. Check. On to Philadelphia.
We landed (roughly) in Philly, and they ran us across the airport to catch our connecting. I briefly glimpsed a sign for Tony Luke’s, and even though there is no better cheesesteak, I had no time to even sniff the restaurant.
We landed even more roughly in Hartford. We started from Georgetown at 8:30, and it was nearly 4 by the time we hit the Insurance Capital of the World. All we needed to due was procure our bags, rent our car, and head to the cozy confines of my mother’s house.
Strike Three
Eileen and I walk down the stairs to the baggage claim area, and as the carousel began to move, my phone pops. “One of your two bags has been delayed.” Our fondest hope was that it was my carry-on. Although it had all of my clothing changes and my boxer briefs, the garment bag was essential.
It had my brand new suit and Eileen’s dress. It held the card and gift for the happy couple. It held the last sliver of confidence I had in American Airlines.
Bag after bag. Finally, we see our gray Samsonite. Unfortunately, it was my carry-on. Immediately, we go to the baggage concierge, who seems distracted and unsympathetic.
I realize that this job has got to be one of the worst on the planet. How many people are going into the lost luggage room with glee and gratitude? We prefaced our conversation with understanding and the candor appropriate to the gravity of the situation.
“It is coming on the next flight from Philly.” Stall tactic? Ruse? Truth? Who knows. “You have the option of having it delivered, or you can come back to the airport to retrieve it.
Remember, it is around 4 in the afternoon. My mother lives almost an hour from the airport and is expecting us. I have a reunion with my work colleagues at 7. My brother is arriving at 7 as well. The wedding is 4 the next day. See, that is the key fact in this paragraph.
We filled out the claim form, and we sojourned to the car rental kiosk. Eileen, beside herself, called customer service while I wait in the Budget line. Customer service tells us to file a complaint via e-mail because that is expedient and instills confidence that some human is aware of our predicament. Sarcasm.
Eileen and I went about our planned activities while the specter of buying new outfits from Marshalls or piecing together motley vestments that pass as formal wear haunts our every thought.
Climactic ending. The delivery service drops our clothes off at my mother’s at quarter to 1 in the morning. My mother and I sit on the stoop to make sure it is the RIGHT bag, and it has not been tossed. Luckily, it is and it has not. Now, we can sleep. Now, we can relax… until we realize that they will be carrying us home in a few short days.
OUT
I have flown Spirit twice and have had no major issues. I have also driven through Virginia traffic and blinding rain to make it home. In all of these excursions, I was able to get to sleep at a reasonable hour with my belongings safely by my side.
I have flown twice with American, and well… I got some mini pretzels and lots of agita.
Love and laughter,
P.