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A Travel Comedy, In Two Acts June 14, 2016

Posted by Peter Varhol in Uncategorized.
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As the calendar was getting ready to turn over into 2016, I found myself just short of any significant level of airline status for the first time in a decade. I booked a rather abrupt mileage run, leaving from New Hampshire for a brief visit with my sister on the North Carolina coast.  The hotel (a Fairfield Inn) was dirt cheap, and I ended up with a pricey Lexus SUV as a rental car for almost nothing (“I’d rather give it to you than some 25-year-old,” said the rental agent).

So, departing MHT, I got a text saying that we were leaving three hours late. Why?  Crew rest.  Okay, so you sent a crew up that you knew could not depart anywhere near on time.  First really red flag.  Of course, I missed my connection in Atlanta, just barely, because I already had a two-and-a-half hour layover.  Seriously.  I lost my first class upgrade, thank you.

I really don’t care about the upgrades. I like them, I don’t need them.  But still.  I ended up at ILM shortly after 5PM, supposed to meet my family for dinner at 6.  I was late.  Oh well.

So, the next day, after baring my soul (if in fact I have one) to my sister, I go to ILM. My flight is delayed by two hours, apparently because they couldn’t find a pilot.  Really.  Huh?  My Atlanta connection, at one hour thirty, did not quite make the grade, and there was only one flight a day back to New Hampshire.  In return, they let me fly to Atlanta, and gave me a hotel there (status is wonderful).

I am in a, god, I don’t even remember, Holiday Inn Express, for like six hours. I leave for Detroit at about 7 the next morning, on a short connection.  The flight leaves half an hour late, we make up most of it on the way, only to lose it in Detroit, where the jetway incredibly fails to work, and we were stuck on the plane.  I ran (I am so glad I am a runner) to my MHT connection, make it by a minute or two, because the agent holds the plane.

Damn.

So I end up back home, almost a day after I was supposed to, and because I could run. Really run.

I mention all of this because I love travel, whether it works or not. Delta, I love you, even as you abuse me like this.  When I complained, you gave me 15K miles (I think).  Much of this was your fault, but I appreciate Delta individuals for accommodating me.

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