Airlines Suck

Originally Posted at my old blog 27 OCT 2005

Air Travel Sucks
Blogging From Arlington, TX. It was a twisted, stange little odyssey enroute too. Mobile to Dallas-Fort Worth is 550 miles as the crow flies in a straight line. Instead, I was treated to a connection in Atlanta, which nearly tripled the distance (and time). Woo-Hoo. Air travel (at least of the commercial variety) is not my cup of tea. Let's begin with check-in.
Woke up in the wee hours to lug my 200 or so pounds of baggage to the car and then from the car into the terminal at the airport. The line was already swelling when I plunked my gear down. The ticketing agent behind the counter asked this little gem: (Italicized passages are my thoughts, not my actual words. Just imagine the scene if I spoke my mind. -Ed.)

"Traveling today?"
No, I got up in the wee hours of the morning, sans coffee, to loiter with 200 pounds of crap in the check-in line. I'm just peachy.

Followed by:

"Did you pack your own bags?"
No. Richard Pryor packed my bags.

Followed by the usual blather about were my bags in my possession the whole time, how many was I checking, yada yada yada. Cripes. Am I getting ready for a flight or a Top Secret security clearance?

Speaking of security, TSA brought their A-game this morning. In the process of removing my running shoes, belt, wallet, smokes, and other goodies, I neglected to remove my enourmous, stainless-steel Citizen watch and my dogtags. You'd figure I would set off the metal detector big-time. WRONG. Traipsed right through without so much as a blink. Didn't even realize I still had so much metal on until I put my shoes back on and re-slung my pack. Oops. Really inspires confidence, that.

Long story short, after being carted over a fair whack of the southeast and south-central U.S., I made it to DFW six hours after I left home. Not the usual two, SIX. Beejus. What a mess.
Wait till I inveigh on the 19-hour-plus international flight that awaits me Saturday. Triple the time, triple the lunacy. Will let y'all know if I remain sane through the ordeal. Or for that matter if my spine remains intact after being crammed into a sardine can, oops, I mean, economy class.

Should have taken yoga.

Laters,
RAH.