donger need food.

The Only Way To Fly

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of standing in line at the airline ticket counter and realizing that you lost your passport…

Oh, this trip to Beijing got off to a great start. First, TFC failed to post their programming guide, thus making it (literally) impossible for me to use the DVR to record my brother’s 10 seconds of fame on Wowowee. What was intended to be a five minute “Record This Program Now” operation turned into an hour long distraction the morning before my flight as I battled a gremlin with my eight year old VCR that has suddenly refused to accept any cursor movements from the remote control. Needless to say, mission not accomplished – my brother and parents’ brief spotlight of anonymity in the crowd of the Philippines’ current hit game show went unnoticed, lost to the ether.

And this was just the start…

Next challenge was figuring out how to pack in light of the revised security measures (no liquids, no gels). I really didn’t want to lug around the 26” case (besides, the handle’s broken). So I stuffed some clothes into my duffle (which I checked in), and packed my backpack, I finished in time to make the Super Shuttle service, and got to the airport with plenty of time. Set my bags down to get my papers ready. Walked to the check-in counter, and began my panic attack… “Where the @*#&^$ is my passport?” Retracing my steps, I went back to the other side of the ticket counter (where I set my things down) and inquired on a lost passport. “Yes, we just gave it to security. I’ll be right back”. PHEW.

Oh, it doesn’t end there…

So, I approach the ticket counter with little blue pamphlet of freedom and printed itinerary in hand… “Are you sure you’re on this flight?” (*Bzzzz* – wrong answer, lady). After a few minutes of plastic key-clicking and questions, she redirects me to the ticket counter, saying I need to clarify the situation with them, that I may need to be reticketed. I walked around to the other side of the counter and stood in line for ticketing, (now useless) passport in hand, heart pounding. I can sense my hair thinning and hairline receding by the minute. My heart sank when my mind began to recall faint memories of a travel agent saying something to the effect of “this is not an e-ticket reservation, you will have a paper ticket delivered to you”. A paper ticket which I (obviously) didn’t have. Just for shits and giggles, I called the travel agent and sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed. Paper ticket needed. A document which was overnighted to my office (I was working from home Friday) so missed the delivery. I could just picture that little brown UPS envelope, snickering at me from my lonely cubicle 30 miles away in an air-conditioned cubicle in Sunnyvale.

Decision time. It's 10:30AM, flight leaves at 1:30PM, boarding at 12:40PM. Do I:

1. Call Shirley, have her take time from work and drive all the way from Oakland to Sunnyvale, and coordinate this with my boss to get the tickets
2. Ask my boss to drive the ticket all the way to the airport
3. Hop in a cab, rush home. Drive to work, grab the tickets. Hustle back to the airport and foot the bill for long-term parking.

Right... Option 3.

90 minutes and countless (unnoticed) moving violations later, I’m back at the International Terminal, standing at that intimately familiar check-in counter. But this time, I’m allowed passage through those blue gates…

I hope the rest of this trip goes just as smooth.

posted by VirtualErn @ 10:59 AM

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