Thirteen Reasons My Mother Thinks I’m The Queen Of Unlucky Fliers, 16th

1. Immediately following 9/11, I had a tendency to argue with the military aiding airport security in the New Orleans International Airport. Usually this had to do with the fact that they were anxious for me to push my valuables, including my laptop and purse, through the x-ray machine while there were still several people in line ahead of me at the people scanner. They were quite irrational about it and I was quite insistent about staying with my things in an airport in a city known for people walking off with things that don’t belong to them.
2. During the first 18 months after 9/11, I was searched at the ticket check-in with my luggage, at security, and boarding the plane. I was re-searched every time we changed planes too. Apparently I look like I am an agent for the IRA with my red hair, pale blue eyes, pale skin and 5′2″ petite frame.
3. In the last three years, I have not once been on a flight from Portland or Atlanta on a flight leaving on time. At least coming or going, there will be a delay of 2-6 hours.
4. Once the airplane I was waiting for pulled up to the wrong terminal on the exact opposite side of the airport. Amazingly, when we arrived at our destination, our luggage did not arrive with us, but the airline refused to send anyone to tell us. Everyone who had been on the flight waited at the luggage terminal watching one piece of beat up, duct taped luggage go round and round for an hour before our luggage arrived from the next state over.
5. Once on take-off, the plane had to turn around because the fire alarm in the bathroom had gone off.
6. This led to a six hour wait in Boston waiting for another plane.
7. When I arrived in El Paso, surprisingly, my luggage did not. I had to wait in El Paso for two hours for my luggage before continuing on my journey by car. By the time I reached my destination 3 hours away, I had been awake for 24 hours — 8 of those hours had been 8 more hours than I had intended to spend in airports.
8. On the return flight of that trip, we circled over Rhode Island for an hour and a half because Boston wouldn’t let anyone land. I was starting to feel a little motion sick.
9. The weekend of my grandmother’s funeral was a huge East Coast storm. I called before leaving for the airport in Pensacola, Fla. to ask if my flight out of Atlanta to Portland was going to be canceled and I was assured that everything would be fine. If I had known, I would have stayed with my family in Florida. When I arrived on the plane hopper in Atlanta, the sign said my plane was boarding. From the time it took for me to walk from where I got off the plane to my new terminal, my flight had gone from boarding to canceled. The Delta people onsite and on the phone weren’t really any help. They kept insisting that they wouldn’t be able to get anyone on new flights for two days. Well, I had just come from a funeral, I was miserable, depressed, and grumpy, and I kept pushing. Eventually they promised me a flight for 5pm.
10. By the way, there are no lockers in the Atlanta airport since 9/11. Well, they have them, but they don’t lock. You have to carry your stuff with you everywhere. I had a big bulky coat and all of my luggage because I decided to do carry-on and I was beginning to feel the onset of fibromyalgia, not to mention it was hot in there. I was uncomfortable to say the least. I was relieved when we began boarding to go to Portland. We were out on the tarmac, approaching the plane, when they canceled the flight. Seriously. We had to walk back into the airport. They canceled it because some pre-flight manual was missing and they couldn’t find one to borrow from somewhere. They basically had a big useless plane because some book had gone awol. Talk about some pissed off passengers. So there I was again with the registration people who were now really assuring me that they couldn’t get me out of that Atlanta airport for another 2 or 3 days. I burst into tears. I’d had enough. Really. I told them that I was coming from my grandmother’s funeral and I could not take any more of this nonsense. I went on a rant about all the things that were making me miserable in the Atlanta airport, even how much I hated what I was wearing and how I wanted to go to sleep and how uncomfortable the chairs were and the lockers didn’t lock. Well, they managed to get me into the last flight to Portland of the night at 9pm. When that flight took off, people cheered…and since I hadn’t checked any luggage, I was able to go home and not worry about what state my luggage was in.
11. When I went to England two Summers ago, I arrived with one carry-on bag and my laptop case but my two checked bags appeared to have stopped in Dublin and not made the next plane to London. I was very calm about the whole thing as I talked to the lost luggage folks and my friends who came to pick me up were amazed. They said they’d be far more panicked if it had been them. I said at the time that I had two things going for me — 1.) I was extremely well medicated and probably wouldn’t have reacted if the Queen herself had shown up with my luggage and 2.) I had the forethought to pack the bridesmaid dress I’d be wearing at the wedding I’d gone to London for in the carry-on. My luggage arrived later that afternoon and the British airline folk were very sweet about it as they had tried to give me some time to take a nap and not disturb me before dropping it off.
12. My luck may have transfered over to my friends. On my way back from England, I had no delays and no lost luggage; however, some friends who also traveled over for the wedding apparently lost their luggage in a much bigger way than I ever did.
13. And last Fall, I sat on the Portland tarmac for an hour in a lightning storm after they fueled up in the lightning storm.

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