Maggie's Mouthful --Frequent Flyer Edition
by Maggie (Maggie13@bellsouth.net)

As I write this I am tired and cranky and just bursting to tell you why.
The fact that I am sitting at home today in my room at my computer is
basically a miracle.

I am not referring to the beauty of creation, the magic
of modern technology or the many wonders of the Universe.
It's a miracle because I had to fly on American Airlines this
week, or should I say, not fly on American Airlines this week.

I have to travel for work, which most of my friends think is just
super cool. However, I'm assuming that much like fame, it sounds
much more glamorous than it really is. Once it becomes a routine,
it's just another part of your day. Until of course, the pilots of the
world decide that every day should be a sick day.

Let me tell you, an airport full of disgruntled non-flyers is not
a pretty site.

My mission was to get from New York to Miami before the
next millennium. However, Miami being Cruise Capital of the world
did not help matters much. My original flight was canceled
and after calling almost every other airline in the phone book,
including a lovely little outfit named, Kiwi, I realized, American
got me into this mess, and only they could get me out of it.

After a mini-strategy session with my boss to make plans in
case I was stranded, I trekked to Newark airport, where
I proceeded to wait in the line-from-ticketing-hell these
hypochondriacs we used to call pilots created.

Many of the people in line with me already had flights
set up on other airlines. The only thing they needed was
for American to re-issue their tickets before they
missed that flight too. Unfortunately, re-issuing tickets
seems to be slightly more complicated than negotiating a peace
treaty, so only some lucky souls got to run through the airport,
take the monorail to their Gate and board their planes with
seconds to spare before departure.

You know it's not looking good when the line is so long, they start
passing out bottles of water while you wait.

My prognosis was dismal. I had already been to an agent
at the World Trade Center who offered me a refund,
to which I responded in my most Lois Lane-like moment
to date, "I don't _want_ a refund. I want to get out of here."
The lovely representative from the Pilot Plague Airline responded,
"Well, I have a flight on Sunday." This was Thursday morning.

Every time I tried to call ABC's official carrier
(they deserve an airline with no pilots, don't you think? )
I got, all our agents are busy now, please try your call again later.
Well, my boss, quite a few years older and wiser than I, spoke
to a supervisor. How he managed that one, I still do not know.
However, his conclusion was, go to the airport and beg.

After waiting in line for what seemed like days, but was really only
a few short hours, I finally got my chance and Clark would have been
proud. While my Angel from Heaven disguised as ticketing Agent
E. Serrano (never shall I forget that name!) looked for flights for
me, I proceeded to tell her how truly wonderful she was. The only
person who even *tried* to help me at all. I beg good

First she put me on stand by on the one flight that was coming
to Miami that day, along with 32 other lucky contestants, hoping
to win a seat home. Then she found a flight to Chicago. Now, I may
not be a whiz at Geography but it seems to me that Chicago is in the
*opposite direction*. Anyway, she said I could go to Chicago, she'd
find me a hotel and then there would be a 7 am flight to Miami
the following day. Please forgive me if I wasn't overjoyed with
that offer. A flight on Lex Corp's private jet seems more appealing.

I had a choice, either do a Lois--are you crazy?! why would I want
to go to Chicago?!? Hello, Duh?!?!? South, lady, I need to go *south*!
Or I could be a reasonable Clark, "I understand you are trying to be
helpful, but it seems to me, going to Illinois, kind of defeats the
purpose, you know? How about South Carolina? Georgia? Somewhere
in that general direction?"

So, pondering my choices with split second precision I did
what I would in hindsight refer to as a 4th Season Lois
I told the lady, Well, thank you so much for finding that,
but this is the thing. I have this terrible fear that then
I would be stranded in Chicago, which I've never been to, and
I'd really rather just be stranded in Newark, where I at least
know how to get around.

Then I begged some more.

When she realized I lived in Miami and not the general Tri-State area,
she said-and-I-quote-"I've got to get you out of here."
She found a Continental flight to West Palm Beach and put me on it.
She said when I got there to go to an American Airlines agent and
they would arrange for ground transportation.

I won't mention the part about how the American Airlines counter
was closed when I got there and I had to go to their baggage claim
office to find help. I won't tell you how I got to the airport just after
3, got on the plane just before 6 and got home at 12:30. I am also
leaving out the part where the driver hit on me. One thing
I will say, Superman Airways never sounded so good.