Clearing the queue...
The following has been sitting, largely untouched, in a file on the PowerBook for oh, about three weeks now. The rationale was that while I had a pending post waiting to be completed, I couldn't start and/or post a new entry, for fear of disturbing the delicate balance of the flow that exists within the blog. If you're thinking that that sounds suspiciously akin to a crappy excuse to not write/post more, I'd say that you're pretty astute, and kindly go make your observations elsewhere, thanks.
Read and enjoy, this kind of sets up the poorly-timed photo of July 12th (it's supposed to say CLT-CLE 14:00 on-time, but it didn't even occur to me that those animated/moving LED signs don't photograph well. What can I say? I was trying to catch a plane...
[scene fades out present, fades in three weeks prior...]
So it's decided that I'm overdue for a trip to Chicago...Bah wants to move and sell the farm, and I'm responsible for probably 93 percent of the crap that's there. Seeing as how I have no job and no prospects, I'm loathe to spend a couple hundred bucks on airfare, or the requisite fuel to drive back (which would probably be about the same couple hundred bucks, but would then be a far better idea, as I'd probably need to bring some portion of said junk back with me.)
As it turns out, I still have several open-ended free "counter" tickets obtained from USAir and Continental during my airline/CSA days. One of these tickets is for the CLT-ORD-CLT (in addition to CLT- EWR(Newark, NJ x2) and CLT-LGA) round trip, and I decide to try and cash one in. I say "try", because technically, these tickets are issued only to airline employees as a courtesy, and deigned to be used only while duly employed with that airline. However, that being said, I did have the foresight, while still gainfully employed, to "lose" one entire set of my airline/airport credentials (including one employee parking pass,) thus ensuring that I would ostensibly remain an airline employee at least through August, 2006. One side benefit of this arrangement is, at least in theory...more on that later), that I'll never be flagged for "additional screening", or have to wait in the security queue again.
So Sunday afternoon, I pack not only for a weekend at the resort, but several days in the old hometown.
[Fast forward through Sunday resort shenanigans...]
Sometime Monday afternoon, (basically right as I get up) I decide to try and make the 2:00pm flight to CLE (Cleveland), # 2268, then connect to flight 2247 into ORD. Since the flight wasn't until 2pm, I figure that that should be plenty of time to get up, say goodbye to the hosts and other resort goers, and make my way to the airport and scam my way onto the flight. All well and good, in theory. Due in part to extended goodbyes, I'm not off the resort campus, which is roughly 30 miles north of the airport until 13:01. Fly through traffic, park the car in employee lot "C" (13:31), get on the employee shuttle (13:38), arrive at the terminal (13:41) run down to security checkpoint 3 (or was it C? I forget the naming convention at CDIA), where I make the mistake of showing the guy my badge and open paper ticket with no date, flight number or time (13:43). He tells me I need a boarding pass, and to go to the counter. I go to the counter, tell them I want to try and non-rev on the 2:00pm to Cleveland, and they tell me just to try and go to the gate directly. I tell them I tried that, and the guy said I need a boarding pass. They tell me duh, don't show him your ticket, just tell them you're non-revving, and he's already seen you, so use checkpoint 2 (or "B"). (13:45) Aaaah, K...duh indeed.
I continue on my journey through checkpoint 2/B, where I badge through the "crew" line, and my duffel bag is flagged for additional screening, despite just having badged through. (13:46) Lovely. The guy, as nice as he is, checks my bag very thoroughly, making sure to very openly (and at eye level) examine my mini bag of condoms and lube, the other partial box of condoms in the bag, and just when I think he's got to have checked it all, continues to empty the bag, as if he's looking for something in particular. At this point, the swab has already been cleared by the giant sniffer machine, but he soldiers on. Finally, after I selectively have myself convinced that there's nothing to find in the bag, he pulls out...a pair of handcuffs. Whoops. forgot those were in there. I generally keep them in that bag for convenience's sake, and traveling with them generally isn't a problem. So he makes a big production out of asking every last one of his co-workers whether "...these are OK? I can't remember." Sure you can't buddy, I've done too much customer ridicule/spotlight focus in my own jobs not to know it when I see it. No worries, as long as I make my plane. Once he gets the OK from the supervisor (approximately 736 co-workers later,) I'm cleared to go, and he wishes me a good trip. Right after which, he adds, "...it looks like you're going to." Sure thing buddy, you have yourself a fabulous day.
Right, so where were we? Ah yes, trucking out to gate A12 (the very LAST one, naturally) from the more-distant checkpoint B with around nine minutes to spare. Even with two motorized walkways, it takes around five minutes to hoof it down the concourse. Plane's still there, and the jetway door is open, good signs. I plead my case with the CSA at the podium, and much to my delight, she and her peer have a good chuckle at my antics, telling them that I used to absolutely loathe people like me, showing up in the last moments prior to departure, with no documentation and exorbitant needs/demands. They assured me that it was alright, they'd wait until after I got on the plane to talk shit about me, and I made sure to tell them that I'd be disappointed if they didn't.
Turns out the fuel delivery was a little late, and that may have contributed to the gate agents' accommodating moods. It's 13:58, I'm sitting in seat 9C, and the plane pushes off at 14:03. Whew.
Get into Cleveland, and as luck would have it, my planned connecting flight is at the very next gate over. Sweet. Go to check in with the gate agent, who's a middle-aged Asian guy. He indicates that I should be able to get on the desired flight, and proceeds to put me on the standby list. Just in case, I ask him to list me standby on the next flight (to ORD, three hours later) as well. Then, in a neurotic fit, I ask him to list me on the flight between the two, which leaves 10 minutes after the next one, but is clear over at the end of the next terminal, and goes to MDW instead. I realistically don't think I'm at all likely to take that flight, as I'd probably not make it over in time, let alone the fact that Midway is 40-60 minutes south (O'Hare is 10 miles/20 minutes) from Bah's place) out of the way, but what the heck, list me for the proverbial shits and giggles.
30 minutes pass, then 40, they start boarding the 50-seat plane, other standby passengers get called (all manner of paying customers get priority boarding as compared to non-revenue ("non-rev" in industry parlance) / space-available ("SA" or "Space A" in the vernacular)) and let on, and I'm starting to get antsy, when Asian guy waves me over and lets me know that I'm on. Sweet. Then he notices another older Asian businessman type in a suit at the gate counter. After assessing his situation, it is determined that he needs to get on first, as he's a paying customer. Ah, the joys of SA travel. No big deal I guess, I'll just follow him on and stand here for 30 more seconds, live and let live. Wrong. Turns out Mr. Asian quasi-businessman in his gay purple suit took the last seat on the plane. MY seat. Crap. Now I've got 30 seconds to make a decision. Can I hoof it over to the other terminal to make the flight to MDW, or bite the bullet and wait for the 3-hour-later flight to ORD? Hrm. Gotta be in in time for dinner with Bah's new girlfriend, so I guess 3h isn't an option...looks like it's time to hustle over to the MDW flight. To make a long story only slightly less long, I made the flight, partly because the gate agent had my boarding pass printed up, and I make it on the plane before completely passing out into lung failure.
So finally, I make it back to Chicago, and all's well...
And L...I finished on the plane. :D
More to come, possibly...
Well, that's it...the trip to Chicago ended up being completely boring, didn't see or do anything or anyone, and in fact, had to blow off a couple/few friends (Sorry Amy, Amy, and Michelle) who I'd tentatively made plans with, and completely neglected to tell dozens of others that i was even in town. I even passed on a sure thing! I'm getting sloppy in my old age, it's true... (sorry Breanne, maybe next time...)
And now that it's been three weeks, the relevance of the trip is largely lost...we'll see in the next day or two if anything more interesting happens that might be worth writing about...
Ciao, friends.
Read and enjoy, this kind of sets up the poorly-timed photo of July 12th (it's supposed to say CLT-CLE 14:00 on-time, but it didn't even occur to me that those animated/moving LED signs don't photograph well. What can I say? I was trying to catch a plane...
[scene fades out present, fades in three weeks prior...]
So it's decided that I'm overdue for a trip to Chicago...Bah wants to move and sell the farm, and I'm responsible for probably 93 percent of the crap that's there. Seeing as how I have no job and no prospects, I'm loathe to spend a couple hundred bucks on airfare, or the requisite fuel to drive back (which would probably be about the same couple hundred bucks, but would then be a far better idea, as I'd probably need to bring some portion of said junk back with me.)
As it turns out, I still have several open-ended free "counter" tickets obtained from USAir and Continental during my airline/CSA days. One of these tickets is for the CLT-ORD-CLT (in addition to CLT- EWR(Newark, NJ x2) and CLT-LGA) round trip, and I decide to try and cash one in. I say "try", because technically, these tickets are issued only to airline employees as a courtesy, and deigned to be used only while duly employed with that airline. However, that being said, I did have the foresight, while still gainfully employed, to "lose" one entire set of my airline/airport credentials (including one employee parking pass,) thus ensuring that I would ostensibly remain an airline employee at least through August, 2006. One side benefit of this arrangement is, at least in theory...more on that later), that I'll never be flagged for "additional screening", or have to wait in the security queue again.
So Sunday afternoon, I pack not only for a weekend at the resort, but several days in the old hometown.
[Fast forward through Sunday resort shenanigans...]
Sometime Monday afternoon, (basically right as I get up) I decide to try and make the 2:00pm flight to CLE (Cleveland), # 2268, then connect to flight 2247 into ORD. Since the flight wasn't until 2pm, I figure that that should be plenty of time to get up, say goodbye to the hosts and other resort goers, and make my way to the airport and scam my way onto the flight. All well and good, in theory. Due in part to extended goodbyes, I'm not off the resort campus, which is roughly 30 miles north of the airport until 13:01. Fly through traffic, park the car in employee lot "C" (13:31), get on the employee shuttle (13:38), arrive at the terminal (13:41) run down to security checkpoint 3 (or was it C? I forget the naming convention at CDIA), where I make the mistake of showing the guy my badge and open paper ticket with no date, flight number or time (13:43). He tells me I need a boarding pass, and to go to the counter. I go to the counter, tell them I want to try and non-rev on the 2:00pm to Cleveland, and they tell me just to try and go to the gate directly. I tell them I tried that, and the guy said I need a boarding pass. They tell me duh, don't show him your ticket, just tell them you're non-revving, and he's already seen you, so use checkpoint 2 (or "B"). (13:45) Aaaah, K...duh indeed.
I continue on my journey through checkpoint 2/B, where I badge through the "crew" line, and my duffel bag is flagged for additional screening, despite just having badged through. (13:46) Lovely. The guy, as nice as he is, checks my bag very thoroughly, making sure to very openly (and at eye level) examine my mini bag of condoms and lube, the other partial box of condoms in the bag, and just when I think he's got to have checked it all, continues to empty the bag, as if he's looking for something in particular. At this point, the swab has already been cleared by the giant sniffer machine, but he soldiers on. Finally, after I selectively have myself convinced that there's nothing to find in the bag, he pulls out...a pair of handcuffs. Whoops. forgot those were in there. I generally keep them in that bag for convenience's sake, and traveling with them generally isn't a problem. So he makes a big production out of asking every last one of his co-workers whether "...these are OK? I can't remember." Sure you can't buddy, I've done too much customer ridicule/spotlight focus in my own jobs not to know it when I see it. No worries, as long as I make my plane. Once he gets the OK from the supervisor (approximately 736 co-workers later,) I'm cleared to go, and he wishes me a good trip. Right after which, he adds, "...it looks like you're going to." Sure thing buddy, you have yourself a fabulous day.
Right, so where were we? Ah yes, trucking out to gate A12 (the very LAST one, naturally) from the more-distant checkpoint B with around nine minutes to spare. Even with two motorized walkways, it takes around five minutes to hoof it down the concourse. Plane's still there, and the jetway door is open, good signs. I plead my case with the CSA at the podium, and much to my delight, she and her peer have a good chuckle at my antics, telling them that I used to absolutely loathe people like me, showing up in the last moments prior to departure, with no documentation and exorbitant needs/demands. They assured me that it was alright, they'd wait until after I got on the plane to talk shit about me, and I made sure to tell them that I'd be disappointed if they didn't.
Turns out the fuel delivery was a little late, and that may have contributed to the gate agents' accommodating moods. It's 13:58, I'm sitting in seat 9C, and the plane pushes off at 14:03. Whew.
Get into Cleveland, and as luck would have it, my planned connecting flight is at the very next gate over. Sweet. Go to check in with the gate agent, who's a middle-aged Asian guy. He indicates that I should be able to get on the desired flight, and proceeds to put me on the standby list. Just in case, I ask him to list me standby on the next flight (to ORD, three hours later) as well. Then, in a neurotic fit, I ask him to list me on the flight between the two, which leaves 10 minutes after the next one, but is clear over at the end of the next terminal, and goes to MDW instead. I realistically don't think I'm at all likely to take that flight, as I'd probably not make it over in time, let alone the fact that Midway is 40-60 minutes south (O'Hare is 10 miles/20 minutes) from Bah's place) out of the way, but what the heck, list me for the proverbial shits and giggles.
30 minutes pass, then 40, they start boarding the 50-seat plane, other standby passengers get called (all manner of paying customers get priority boarding as compared to non-revenue ("non-rev" in industry parlance) / space-available ("SA" or "Space A" in the vernacular)) and let on, and I'm starting to get antsy, when Asian guy waves me over and lets me know that I'm on. Sweet. Then he notices another older Asian businessman type in a suit at the gate counter. After assessing his situation, it is determined that he needs to get on first, as he's a paying customer. Ah, the joys of SA travel. No big deal I guess, I'll just follow him on and stand here for 30 more seconds, live and let live. Wrong. Turns out Mr. Asian quasi-businessman in his gay purple suit took the last seat on the plane. MY seat. Crap. Now I've got 30 seconds to make a decision. Can I hoof it over to the other terminal to make the flight to MDW, or bite the bullet and wait for the 3-hour-later flight to ORD? Hrm. Gotta be in in time for dinner with Bah's new girlfriend, so I guess 3h isn't an option...looks like it's time to hustle over to the MDW flight. To make a long story only slightly less long, I made the flight, partly because the gate agent had my boarding pass printed up, and I make it on the plane before completely passing out into lung failure.
So finally, I make it back to Chicago, and all's well...
And L...I finished on the plane. :D
More to come, possibly...
Well, that's it...the trip to Chicago ended up being completely boring, didn't see or do anything or anyone, and in fact, had to blow off a couple/few friends (Sorry Amy, Amy, and Michelle) who I'd tentatively made plans with, and completely neglected to tell dozens of others that i was even in town. I even passed on a sure thing! I'm getting sloppy in my old age, it's true... (sorry Breanne, maybe next time...)
And now that it's been three weeks, the relevance of the trip is largely lost...we'll see in the next day or two if anything more interesting happens that might be worth writing about...
Ciao, friends.
posted by Gene at 6:36 AM
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