Hasta La Creative!

Since many of you are undoubtedly traveling during these holidays, we thought we’d share a story about a man missed his flight to Baltimore, from Milwaukee, yesterday.

In Milwaukee, one normally needs no more than 30 minutes for pre-flight check-in, so we felt confident that an hour was plenty. Yeeps were we wrong. Lines were strangely familiar &#151 like what you’d expect to see when the Apocalypse finally comes and people naively decide to drive out of town or where ever and get trapped on the highway with gobs of baggage spilling out their car windows. Like that.

We were but two people away from the teller’s desk (what do you call the airport check-in people, anyway?) which we had been in for no less than 35 minutes, when some kind of airport employee budged in front of us to let the teller know he had two passengers bound for Baltimore who needed to skip the lines.

“That flight is closed. Send him my way,” said said teller.

Upon explaining this to the balding, camel-hair coat clad passenger-man, and that there was no way to get him on the plane ‘cuz it was tots too late, aforementioned passenger’s blood pressure rose from a mere boiling to what it’s like when the sun gets pissed off by stupid airline tellers. Sizzle.

The back-and-forth of “get me out of this midwestern hell” v. “Dude, I’ll meet a nice elephant and birth it’s half-elephant half Norwegian child before you get on that plane” escalated pretty quickly. IE the balding camel coat guy literally slammed his fist down on the counter, much to the surprise of teller and, well, the community of New Yorkers who were waiting to get checked in. An old guy looked at the dude in front of me with that, “Christ, I’m glad that’s not me cuz I would have punched the bitch” look.

Then someone shouted, “last call for La Guardia” and not wanting to end up like Baldy McDouchenheimer, we took care of business and checked our bags (for $40…fuckers).

Yadda yadda we got through security in no time (yay Millie-wah-kay), and decided not to run to the gate like the tiny middle eastern woman who was also on our flight. By the time we sidled up to the gate, the plane hadn’t even started boarding yet &#151 and we secretly laughed at the gasping middle-easterner we just told you about. Sucka!

Anyway, immediately to the right of our gate was another gate (go figure) for the flight to “Baltimore” &#151 which is a city in Maryland. And guess what? They hadn’t even begun boarding. Lolcats! And meanwhile, Baldy McD was frantically buying another ticket to anywhere, gawddamnit, anywhere within 300 miles of B-more. At least, that’s our guess, since he was definitely standing there looking all sad as we scurried off to drop our shit at the baggage claim.

We weren’t sure we could hate airlines any more than we already do, but that little encounter pretty much sealed the deal. The sooner we stop expecting anything close to humane treatment from airlines, the better we’ll be.

Just one more thing. Gas was $1.49/gallon when I was in Minnesota, so why the hell did I pay a total of $80 F.U.C.K.I.N.G. dollars to get my two checked bags to and fro? Next year, I’m shipping everything even if it costs more, just to spite the airlines. Take that!

Note to AirTran: tisk x 2. Now, if only we had gotten Baldy’s e-mail address…

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