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Stuck in airport
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I had a nightmare experience in JFK a few Christmases ago. I was due to fly from Dublin to DC via JFK first thing on the morning of Dec 24th. I went out on the lash the night before for a friend's birthday and when I was finished partying I packed and headed for the airport. I slept for the atlantic crossing and stepped off the plane at midday for what I thought would be a one hour stopover in New York. HA yeah right!!! 14 hours later I was still there...
1 PM: The flight was initially delayed for 2 hours because of high winds, no massive problem I thought as there was a bar right beside the gate, I got to talking to random people stranded at the bar, it was both great craic and enlightening!
2.30PM: I went to check on the flight status and it was delayed again or another 2 hours to 5PM. At this point, reality kicked in that while it would be great to be sitting at a bar chinwaging with strangers all day, I was now in an airport on Christmas Eve and my then girlfriend would be waiting in DC, to then drive for 2 hours into the heart of Virginia where I would have to meet not only her parents for the first time, but the whole entire family. At this moment I didn't know my oncoming saga in JFK would be the focalpoint for Christmas dinner conversation among 20 Americans I never before met the following day.
4.30PM: I start to notice a pattern emerging that each time my flight was due to start boarding, another two hour delay would come up on the screen. By now I am picking up the airline's helpdesk phones by the gate trying endlessly to find out what's the problem. The answer they were giving me was that the high winds had now died down and it was safe to fly, but the pilots and the airline crew who were due to man the plane had now clocked out! WTF!
But they were doing all they could to ensure the next time for the departure would be the plane that would take off.
6.30PM: Nope, it didn't take off. By now my OH is getting a bit restless just passing time in Reagan airport in DC with her friend. My family back home are wrecking me for updates on the phone, and the OH's family are doing the same with her. My ass is numb from sitting around so I nip out for the occasional smoke, of course I have to go through security each time I do so but what else had I to do with my time?? I was on first name terms with the guys at the metal detector at this stage.
8.30PM: Another delay. It was then I started to consider bussing it to DC but the eternal optimist inside kept on giving the airline, and my luck, the benefit of the doubt. The next flight out was scheduled for 11pm but this time I wasn't going to wait around, I decided to see what could be done about getting a flight with another airline. I am now exhausted, all the good, warm Christmas vibe that had built up between partying the night before (Fairytale of New York on the dancefloor last song, can't beat it!:D no way I could've seen the oncoming irony!), the excitement from getting away for the holidays, experiencing Christmas the way they do it in the opening of 'Home Alone', all that was sapped out of me as each hour went by. My head was opening with a pain and that wasn't helping. So I went to the airline helpdesk...
9PM: Long line as expected and I finally get to the desk and was faced with a woman who deeply resembled Shirley from 'Community'. This woman was clearly not impressed that she was working Christmas Eve and I explained that I still had a long journey ahead, it was almost Christmas Day, and I've tried waiting for the plane to take off but I believed it wouldn't happen at this stage. She used little words to more or less say 'tough shíte, you've to wait it out, now good luck to ya'. I said this wasn't acceptable and could she not at least try to help me out. At this point she started waving her finger in my face and threatening to call security. Note: My tone and demeanor couldn't have been more good mannered and non-threatening, I had previously long ago learned that getting heated in these situations never helps.
9-11PM: I wander about the gate area. By now the bar I had been drinking in much earlier that day was alive with craic and full of people who had obviously just entered JFK, the walls were so familiar, I must have heard over 1000 PA announcements, so many courtesy phones were picked up, or at least requested to be. I had answered and made dozens of phonecalls to the OH, various worried/growingly frustrated members of my family (I was 25 at this time, I come from the typical nuclear Irish family of born worriers!) plus my friends were delighted to send a few texts to 'sympathise' with my situation. My mobile was 'Pay As You Go' and my credit was haemorrhaging out of my phone.
11PM: This flight didn't take off either just incase you were wondering. I, resembling what used to look like a man, was heading towards a breakdown. I could feel myself choking up. Because I was out of credit and was roaming, nobody could get through to my phone. By the time I called my OH from a coinbox she was major píssed off because she got into an argument with my mother and aunt on the phone, who I then called and they tore me a new one. It was as if I had slashed the tyres on the plane myself causing this saga. But the fact was that by choosing to embark on this Christmas quest, it was my fault. To add to that my family and the in-laws were also partaking in some transatlantic quarrelling, and therefore my downward spiral gathered velocity.
12AM, Christmas Day: I returned to the lady who previously turned me away. I said 'Look I'm still here and I'm not getting out of here'. This woman was made of stone, and told me I had no option but to wait for the 1 AM flight and hope that it was the one. I trounced away from the desk, my shoulder was going into retirement at this stage from the weight of my luggage. The terminal that was earlier bustling with moving bodies was now all but deserted. By the time I got back to security the tears had come out. It was a long long time since I had previously shed a tear, but a shed load of them came out of me there by the luggage scanner. The guards asked me what was wrong, I couldn't get words out initially and was almost struggling to breath. The first words I could muster were 'Arrest me', of course the officers responded with a bit of bewilderment. I told them that I had done nothing wrong but I just wanted to put my head down and for the day to be over, if it was in a cell at the airport then that would have to do. Crazy thinking I know, but they don't call it a breakdown if all your senses are working fine. Finally a bit of help, literally a shoulder to cry on, the security people didn't arrest me but brought me to a different helpdesk once I had managed to explain how I spent my Christmas Eve.
1AM: The flight didn't.....you know by now. But I was now talking with a breath of fresh air in the form of somebody actually doing the job they were tasked to do, a.k.a. customer service. The middle-aged lady in a bright blue unifrom looked at me as if I was a kid who had just fallen and ripped his knees on the tarmac in the playground. By now my dignity was long gone, if pity was to be my saviour I'd take it this once. She put me on a flight with a different airline taking off for DC at 2AM. I wanted to hop the counter and grab her in a hug, but I just about resisted and thanked her, trust me she knew she helped out a lost soul. The caveat was that my new flight was taking off from a different terminal of JFK and I had to catch the inter-airport rail to get there. A long overdue second wind gave me the stamina to leg it over. I just about got time to call the family and girlfriend to let them know I'd be in the air in a few moments.
2AM: Guess what...The plane took off. It doesn't matter how rough or nerve-wracking the actual flight was, it got me to DC at 3.15AM. Any anguish or previous catting between herself and I was immediately forgiven once we held each other. Her friend who had just tagged along for company 15 hours earlier even managed to give me a hug.
5.30AM: I arrive in Colonial Beach, VA, a small town which to me was in the middle of nowhere but now it was home. The OH's father was up waiting, he handed me a beer and said 'Nice to meet you, I believe you've had an interesting day'. Not long later, I lay my head down in a camper van parked next to the overcrowded House of Christmas. Oh yeah, it was Christmas, kinda lost sight of that in the airport. Needless to say there wasn't sight nor sound from inside of the camper until midday on Christmas Day. By then the kids who I had yet to meet were flipping their shít with Santa's offerings. I sat down to dinner with a lovely bunch of people, more grateful than ever to be there to tell the tale, even if it was a little too soon for jokes about my ordeal:D Me being the modern Irish man that I am accidentally let the C-word slip out amongst the craic, but that is a whole different tl:dr:)
To the OP, hang in there buddy. You will look back on it fondly...hopefully, and godspeed on the rest of your journey. It could always be worse, you could be this poor guy, laid my own two eyes on him before...http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mehran_Karimi_Nasseri
I really enjoyed that story...nice one! Was rooting for you all the way through...glad you got there finally...0 -
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By the time I got back to security the tears had come out. It was a long long time since I had previously shed a tear, but a shed load of them came out of me there by the luggage scanner.
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The answer they were giving me was that the high winds had now died down and it was safe to fly, but the pilots and the airline crew who were due to man the plane had now clocked out! WTF!
There are strict rules regarding how long airline pilots can work for. They aren't allowed to do much or maybe ANY overtime because they can't be mentally tired whilst flying a plane. If they went over their permitted shift time, they would have had to clock off. It sucked for you but it does make sense.0 -
Had to watch this twice! Though it's probably changed the way I'll see 'Chopper' in the future:D0 -
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XY3TfjOeuhM
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