A Trip to Florida is a Trip

I had to fly down to Florida for work. I went with Matt. He’s traveled more than anyone I know and he’s really good at it. I got to the airport at 6:00am, about an hour early. He got there about five minutes before the plan loaded. See, I told you he was good.

Because it was a small plane, anyone that had a larger than small carry-on bag had it tagged and then stowed under the plane. My bag was small. Matt’s bag was not small enough. It was tagged and left to be stowed.

The plane had one seat along one side and two seats on the other. Matt and I were on the single seat side. The plane was taking a long time after loading to get going. Ticket lady kept coming on and then leaving the plane.

Finally, the ticket taker lady came on the plane and announced that “due to the rain, certain equipment was going to have to be used for the flight.” Because of this, the plane was overweight and five people were going to have to get off. They immediately offered a $400 voucher, but we were in Ohio and the plane was going to Florida so there were no takers. The ticket lady said that she was going to pull the last five people that bought their tickets.

Matt and I were number four and five respectively.

Inside at the counter, we were standing around with a couple that had just been married and were heading down to Florida for a cruise that was departing later that day. The fifth person was a girl that weighed about 80 pounds. Back on the plane there was a woman across the isle from me that could have taken the place of all three of them. Matt suggested that next time they should utilize a scale.

The newlywed couple was about one more problem away from a panic. Their cruise was boarding later that afternoon and they needed a flight out pronto. The ticket lady said, “Why did you wait until today to fly out?” The girl smiled and said something nice. Matt and I both quietly made rude remarks about the ticket lady’s lack of compassion. There was another flight in thirty minutes to LaGuardia and then a 10:30am to Miami. We were all relieved.

It was then the girl realized that her ID was in the carry-on bag that had been taken at the last minute and stowed as we boarded. Matt’s carry-on was taken as well. Neither had been returned and the plane was pulling away from the gate. She asked if she would need her ID in LaGuardia. The ticket lady assured us that we wouldn’t have to go though security again. Then she followed up with, “Why did you put your ID in your bag?” You could see cute, recently glowing girl begin to scowl. I think we all assume that when we carry-on a bag we are going to carry it off as well. We were told that the carry-on bags (that were stowed away) and checked bags would all be waiting at Miami.

We got on the next flight.

Holy fuck.

I’ve been on flights where there have been moments of turbulence. I’ve been on flights were there have been spans of turbulence. This plane flew like a washer on spin cycle with three too many pairs of jeans in it all the whole way to New York. It was miserable.

When we landed in LaGuardia, we happened to hear the married couple stop an agent and ask them about the next gate. The next gate was in a different concourse and we would have to go through security again. Nice. The poor girl about lost it. We walked off while she was pleading her situation.

As it turned out, they ran into someone helpful. The employee had walked her through security where she had to fill out “I don’t have ID” paperwork which is usually reserved for Libertarians and assholes from the internet. I guess I just could have said Libertarians there.

The flight from LaGuardia to Miami was just as bad if not worst for the first 50% of the trip. Matt was green. I was green with red dots. If one person on that flight would have even gagged, the whole flight would have erupted in an orgy of vomit.

No one puked and by South Carolina the flight smoothed out.

We landed.

In Miami, Matt and I went to the baggage customer service desk. The guy at the desk loves his job. I assume he was a mortgage broker 18 months ago and because he can no longer fuck people over there, he got hired by the airlines. He asked for the ticket stub of the bag that was supposed to be carry-on, but was stowed. There was no stub because Matt never got one. The ex-broker said that there HAD to be a stub. Matt explained that the woman only put a red tag on the bag and that there was no other stub or stub like identification. The guy scanned his screen, inhaled most the air in the building right before he let out a huge sigh and said that our bags would be at XX baggage claim.

The bags were at XX baggage claim. We saw the 80 pound girl and wished her the best.

We were in Miami for about 24 hours until our trip back.

Our trip back was fine.

As we were leaving the Columbus airport, we saw the ticket lady again. Not in person but on the wall where they post the photos of the team member who receive awards. Hers was for Customer Service.

We laughed loud enough for most people in the Max and Erma’s bar to stop and stare.