The Weekend Of FAIL

Let me tell you about my weekend. The weekend that was supposed to be spent in Massachusetts, with the Herd. The weekend that was supposed to be the first trip that HP and I took together. The weekend of FAIL.

A cab picked us up Thursday at 5:10 for our 6:45 flight (the airport is about 3 miles away), we arrived with plenty of time, checked our bags and headed to the gate. The boards indicated that the flight was on time and we thought we had a big win because our gate was directly across from the bar. We sat and had a drink, watching the board which kept saying that the flight was on time. At about 5:45 we noticed that they weren’t showing our flight listed at the gate anymore and, assuming we had a gate change (how cute of us!), HP went to check the board to get the new gate information. The flight was canceled because of bad weather in Boston. We saw the line growing for customer service as everyone was trying to get rescheduled on the next flight. So we looked at the board to see when the next flight was (10:00 that night) and went directly to that gate. The gentleman there explained that the flight was full and there were already 20 people on the standby list.  Fuck that noise. We re-booked on the next available flight – Friday afternoon at 12:15.

We went down to baggage claim (because we had checked our bags) and asked for our bags to be pulled so they wouldn’t go to Boston, we wanted to have our stuff that night. The woman said ok but it would take a couple hours, to come back at about 10. We took a cab home and drank a bottle of wine, chuckling at our crazy misfortune, changing the arrangements with the dog sitter, rental car company, and lunch plans with my family for Friday. We figured out how to cram in all of our original visits in a shorter period of time and had a few more drinks. Then we called another cab to come get us to go back to the airport to get our bags…which never got pulled and were already in Boston.

That was a frustrating conversation with the same woman who personally took our information and promised to have our bags pulled. She explained “sometimes they don’t get the message.” And then HP punched her in the face. Metaphorically, of course.

So another cab ride home, feeling frustrated, but whatever right? Friday morning we got up and went to CVS to buy makeup for me and a toothbrush for him. We showered and got ready, this time driving ourselves to the airport. All online information said the flight was on time, everything was good to go.

We got to the gate (right next to the one from the night before), still said on time, and grabbed some lunch and a drink at the bar. Then we heard the announcement that our plane was supposed to come from Chicago, which was having weather problems. We were delayed. Then delayed again, then delayed again. Finally we got in line for customer service to find out just what was going on- there were about 15 people in front of us. All of a sudden they announced that flight was also canceled! Then about 60 people flooded customer service behind us. Took another hour or so to get through the line. Next flight out: Saturday. We were supposed to leave Sunday morning. So we bagged the whole trip, they refunded our money.

Now we had to deal with our bags that were in Boston already. Customer service sent us back down to baggage claim (where we had experienced such competence the night before!) We had to fill out a form to put in a formal request to have them flown back. At this point we were pretty much losing it – it was about 3 in the afternoon and were OVER being at the airport. We were told they’d call us when the bags arrived and we’d have to come back to Dulles baggage  claim to get them. We made bets on how many days it would be before we saw any of our belongings again.

We finally left the airport paying for our parking ticket inside at the machine (like you’re supposed to), waited for a shuttle to take us to the truck, and got in exhausted. As we were attempting to exit I put the paid ticket in at the exit gate and it said “processing error”. I tried again. It said “processing error”. I tried one more time and this time the machine just laughed at me and gave me the finger. At this point there was a line of cars behind us and the gate won’t open. We had to get everyone to back up so we could go through the booth with the person. The guy retrieved my ticket and took 15 minutes to figure it out, never saying a single word to us. We just sat there stewing in what was becoming a mounting rage of frustration. Finally the gate opened, I screamed out of there (hitting the curb on the way out, oops) and drove in silence on the way to the mall so HP could get a clean shirt.

Done with the mall, we finally headed home.

At this point in the day my realtor has been calling me for the past six hours leaving messages that there’s an URGENT piece of paper that MUST be signed and faxed back TODAY. When we get back from the mall I log into my email and look at the form. It’s one release form (that I’ve signed a billion times). But…my printer is broken. I can’t print it. I call the realtor and she explains that THE PLANET WILL EXPLODE IF YOU DO NOT SIGN AND FAX THIS PAPER TOOOOODAAAAYYYYY. THE FATE OF HUMANITY RESTS ON THE SIGNING OF THIS RELEASE FORM.

Defeated, I went to Staples and bought a printer. I was not polite to the check out clerk who left me waiting at the register for 10 minutes. I finally got the printer home and took it out of the box so I could set it up and save the world by printing my release form.

The printer is missing a piece.

And then I died.

You’ll be proud to learn that I never curled into fetal position and cried for my mommy. Instead, I downloaded the form onto a jump drive, took it to Kinkos, printed it, signed it, faxed it.

While I was there I got a call that our luggage had arrived at the airport (it’s about 9:00 now). I got home, we showered and got dressed for dinner and a movie and decided to go pick up the luggage after that.

We went to dinner and then headed across the street to the movie theater. The theater had a blown speaker that crackled all through the previews. Someone went to complain to management and returned saying that they claimed it would be fixed for the movie.

The movie starts and we immediately learn that they “fixed” the blown speaker by turning off the surround sound so the sound is only coming from the front speakers. MOVIE THEATER FAIL. We got a refund and went to pick up our luggage.

Then we went home and drank more.

You might be pleased to learn that the rest of the weekend was actually pretty great. We returned the printer, went shooting, went to see the movie at a different theater, got in a great workout at the gym, and met up with my cousin and aunt for dinner.

Perhaps later I will tell you some tales from people watching at the airport, but for now I’m simply exhausted just re-counting that tale.


6 Responses to “The Weekend Of FAIL”

  1. 1 Evelyne June 23, 2009 at 9:32 pm

    Oh Amy, I’m SO sorry you had such bad luck. I know how you were looking forward to spending time with the Herd. Glad the rest of the weekend turned out good after all.

  2. 2 Suzi June 25, 2009 at 5:39 pm

    All I can say is OMG. You handled it very well though! I often wondered how people can effectively plan business travel (and pleasure travel) on the East Coast due to weather issues-there always seems to be something. Now I know 🙂

  3. 3 melanie June 25, 2009 at 10:42 pm

    Well the silver lining is that you and your man experienced a stressful situation early on in your relationship and it didn’t break you. So yay!

  4. 4 elissa June 28, 2009 at 8:04 pm

    Man. I would’ve screamed so much.

  5. 5 Swistle July 2, 2009 at 9:03 am

    OMG! That is SOOOOO suckiful I can’t even believe it!!

  1. 1 Shipping Up To Boston « Amyella Trackback on September 22, 2009 at 2:45 pm

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Amyella (pronounced Amy-ella) is a pseudonym for Amy Levitt, a fitness and health food fanatic and a beach girl at heart. She has been sharing her sometimes nonsensical thoughts and self-amusing stories online since 2002 and currently spends a good deal of her time wrangling her 90 pound Rottweiler and 60 pound Boxer. Which is quite a show.
The origin of the name Amyella.

Here's my deal. It's wicked exciting!


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