So I’m sitting here at the Albuquerque Sunport and contemplating the morning’s events. I didn’t get to sleep until about 2:30am and needed to wake up at 4:45am to get ready and get to the Sunport by 5:25am so I can board my plane at 6:25am…or so I thought. I get my ticket from the friendly kiosk pay my $15.00 for my Golf bag and away I go.
At 5:30 am you think that security would be a breeze, well I guess everyone is going to Miami or Atlanta because there was literally hundreds of people waiting in line to take their shoes, belts, keys, wallets, and laptops out to make sure we had no terrorist paraphernalia. I used to wear shoes but now I wear flip flops (even in winter), and now they make me take off my flip flops in case I have a lighter stuck between my big toe and 2nd metatarsal. So barefoot I scamper off to collect my backpack and garment bag. Even though I arrived early for my flight I felt like I was late… because I almost was. How that happened is still beyond my comprehension. I arrive to the gate to find all the same people I saw in the security line at my gate standing around like they were waiting for a bus. Something was amiss. No one was boarding the plane. So now I was standing around looking like the rest of the idiots.
I try to inquire what was going on and the “lovely” gate people at Delta had absolutely no clue. You work for the airline, the plane is supposed to be boarding but you have no clue to what is going on. What does it take to work for Delta? A pulse and a lobotomy? Now I see some disgruntled would-be passengers and I ask them. They repeat this to me three times… a dead battery…a f@#kin’ dead battery? Did they really say a dead battery? I thought for a second I was listening to Dustin Hoffman in “Rainman” but no… Dustin was no where to be found. So I started thinking to myself, how does an aircraft get a dead battery? Don’t they have backups? Don’t they have jumper cables? Can’t they get a nice Boeing 767 to saunter over and give them a jump? Or maybe the most brilliant of them all…don’t they have extra batteries in the warehouse for times like these?
So instead of listening to the clueless crew, I decide to take matters into my own hands and turn my ass around and see if I can get on the next flight while “the cattle” keep bitching. I run down stairs and cut everyone in line because at this point I feel I have earned the right to be an asshole for a minute. I don’t know why but it felt good. I walk up and tell the counter guy Robert about the situation and he puts me on a flight with American… my airline adversary… or so I thought.
Robert tells me to run down to American (which I do… literally) and the American counter guy tells me that Delta did book the flight. So I have to “run” back to Delta… again cutting everyone in line and tell Robert my situation. He sends me back down and Soloman from American tells me that it’s still not booked…and now it’s approaching the witching hour and I am on the cusp of not making the flight we are trying to get me on. A new counter guy Mike takes matters into his own hands (something I have never seen before…and it was awesome) Mike made a call, started typing and got me on a better flight to my Miami destination. Although I have been a huge critic of American Airlines because they allow people who have fat dripping over into my lap sit next to me, today Mike did me solid…and I appreciate that. I still think that American needs to stop hiring fat flight attendants and should give people over 350 sloppy pounds their own seats but today I am happy…well once I get on the plane and land in Miami .