The Burning of Atlanta
Really, this post isn't about Atlanta. It's about getting to Atlanta. Yessirree my friends, it's another of Zonthar's "ADVENTURES IN AIR TRAVEL!!!" But to break up the monotony, I will throw in the occasional photo from Atlanta.
Here's a view from our hotel room.
Wow! Now if THAT doesn't intrigue you, then you're just not... um... intriguable! So, here we go:
Once again, Chef Eric DeGroot and I are sitting in the Fresno airport early in the AM, waiting for our flight. We're flying to San Francisco and then direct to Atlanta. With memories still fresh from the last time we flew- and we're taking United again (check my previous blogs if you want a reminder of our journey to Chicago)- we're hoping for a smooth day of travel this time. I also believe in the Tooth Fairy and I plan to get rich through a pyramid scheme.
Suddenly, breaking the calm of the terminal, a voice: "Passenger DeGroot, please report to the customer service counter." We look at each other with an unspoken but definite communication of, "You gotta be shittin' me. What now?" Well, I don't know if they picked Eric's name at random or what, but we're told that one of our flights is overbooked, and would we be willing to be rerouted through L.A., get to Atlanta a mere one hour later than planned, and get free round-trip vouchers for our trouble? Okay, I've been offered the voucher thing before, but never a whole free round trip (good only in the 48 contiguous states, but still, that's pretty damn good). Eric was a little wary, but my reaction was, "Wow! Free ticket!" So, I talk Eric into it, we say, "Sure!"- and with that, Eric and I proceeded to bend over and allow United Airlines to have its way with our respective anuses. But I digress.
It turns out we had to do this transaction immediately, because our flight to L.A. was already boarding. She booked us on a flight- a Delta flight- that was leaving L.A. at 12:30 and arriving in Atlanta at 7:30. She printed our trip vouchers, new flight info, rerouted our baggage, we were good to go.
Flew to L.A. with no problem. We look at our new flight cards- all they had was flight number and times, no gate number, no seat number- and it obviously wasn't a boarding pass. So, we figured we should go find a Delta service counter and find out what the deal was. We find one, ask the guy about it, he looks at our flight info quizzically for a moment, and tells us, "This says A.M."
Blink....blink....what? Yup. Following in the grand tradition of United Airlines desk agents, specifically the ones in Fresno (see previous post), she wasn't paying close enough attention to the flight times. But since the date was correct... yes, do the math.... we are booked on LAST NIGHT'S FLIGHT. In fact, according to our itinerary, we are already in Atlanta!!!
Here's a view from our hotel room at night. Or during a total eclipse. Or in the sunless world of "The Matrix". Naaah, I think it's just at night.
This is the point where my brain does a 180 degree turn and tap dances inside my skull. We're booked on a flight that no longer exists. At the time she reserved us for it, our flight had already landed 2 1/2 hours earlier. HOW THE HELL did it even come up in the system as being an available flight? I suppose I can understand- if not entirely forgive- that she just didn't notice the "A" as she was rushing to rebook us, but again, WHY DOES THE FLIGHT COME UP AT ALL?
Well, now we're in the proverbial pickle. Not only do we have to travel backward in time to catch our flight- which admittedly would be way cool- but Delta Man also tells us that our names are not in their system AT ALL. Apparently our bags are- but as Rod would say, they've been rerouted... to The Twilight Zone. He apologizes and says, rightly so, that it's United's mistake so we're going to have to talk to them. So, we trudge over to the United counter, wait and watch as they reduce some poor woman to tears because they have to send her to Baltimore instead of her reserved flight to Washington, and then we get to plead our case. The girl- and I use that term literally- found us an 11:00 flight, a Delta one again since United wasn't available. I decided to take a chance- it couldn't hurt, I figured: I asked, since we were already given free trip vouchers for the relatively small inconvenience of being an hour late, and since booking us on a non-existent flight is a much more egregious error, could we possibly get additional vouchers so we can take a friend on this theoretical trip somewhere? She said, "Well no, I can't give you that- but I can give you meal vouchers." Meal vouchers. Again with the meal vouchers. Only $7.50 this time, and only good inside that specific terminal. Hmph. Well, we took them. And Eric pleasantly declares that since we have two hours at this point, we can go find our gate, then come back and eat. The girl says, "Um... I don't think you'll have time." "Why not?" say we. "This is a Delta flight." "Yeah....?" "You have to go to another terminal." "Okay....." "You have to go through security again." Blink....blink.... WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
This derelict building has a swastika painted on the top, along with the words "White Power". Lovely. I think it's just graffiti, but I guess it could be the old "White Power" main headquarters building. In which case, I'm glad it's derelict.
Fucking LAX. Every other modern airport is designed so you can somehow move between the terminals without leaving the "secure" zone. Not LAX. It grew so haphazardly and is designed so poorly that you can't get to the whole airport from wherever you are. And now we're getting royally screwed because of it. I can't believe we're being sent through security. Plus, we STILL have to talk to Delta to get boarding passes. Holy crap.
So, off we go, past the big yellow line into the unsecured world that's crawling with terrorists, find the Delta checkin counter- at least we don't have bags to check- and discover that, surprise!!!!!- we are STILL not in the system. At all. But, the nice Delta lady says she can get us on that flight- good thing, since we were just booked on it- and assures us that our bags will be fine. Hmmmm. Well, at least we now have actual boarding passes, and our gate is.... back in the terminal we JUST CAME FROM. As a matter of fact, it's exactly where we talked to the Delta guy the first time. We probably could have taken care of it with him, and would never have had to leave and face security, but we took the word of United Girl. Fuck. Well at least we'll be able to use the terminal-specific meal vouchers that United so generously coughed up (which we wouldn't even have been offered if I hadn't asked).
This is the view down through the "world's largest atrium" from the balcony right outside our room door.
Security line. Not that long, really. But they end up treating us a little differently, and I didn't realize why until later- we are now in the category of Same-Day Reservations, which thanks to 9/11 means Security Threat. Somehow, there's an indication on our boarding passes which they're supposed to see, especially since you now have to hold your pass for them to see as you go through the metal detector. To give you some confidence about the current state of airport security, the guy didn't even catch Eric's and almost didn't catch mine- he waved me through, then said "Wait a sec-" called me back, looked again, and said, "Oh, you have to stand over here," motioning me to a little fenced-off area that might as well have been marked, "Please laugh at my pain." A very serious-looking gentleman came over and politely but firmly gave me the full treatment- including a pat-down and yes, The Wand. After being satisfied that I wasn't a danger to National Security, he sent me on my way. I joined Eric and the meal vouchers almost paid for our breakfast burritos.
This is the kind of thing you see when your hotel is full of conventioneers. Did the wine not make it onto the elevator, or just barely make it off? Hmmmm.
So, boarding time eventually arrives, and we're standing in line to finally get on this damn plane. Eric hands the woman his boarding pass. She pauses and speaks apologetically.
"Oh...um.... this isn't your fault....."
You have got to be FUCKING KIDDING.... NOW WHAT???
"It's security's fault...."
Oh. My. God......
"This pass needs to be stamped by them."
Have you ever seen "Brazil"? That's what I'm living at this point.
"You're going to have to go back there and get a stamp before we can let you on the plane."
FUCK!!!
And of course this is true of both of us, because we are both Security Threats. They didn't even search Eric the first time, but although I did get searched, they forgot to stamp mine as well. So, the gate agent, who really was very helpful, escorted us to security, which luckily was only about 100 feet away, and we didn't have to stand in line. They took us aside, searched us, and after almost forgetting to stamp it again- that's what we came over here for, dammit!- they sent us on our way, they let us on the plane, and all was good.
Here's a view from the Centennial Olympic Park, which is where the bombing happened during the 1996 Olympics, but it's still a nice park. If you were to turn 90 degrees to the right of this view, you'd be looking at CNN headquarters and the enormous convention hall where our show was.
The flight to Atlanta was fine. I had good airline movies on this trip for a change- "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" going there, and "Batman Begins" coming back. They also showed "Bewitched" coming back, but we won't really talk about that one. We landed at ATL and went to face the dragon- would we have any baggage? If you've never been to the airport in Atlanta- or even if you have- it's one of the world's largest. It's huge, and the baggage claim alone goes on forever with many baggage carousels. We track down the carousel with our flight flashing on it, and wait...... you guessed it. Nothing, and the board is flashing "LAST BAG" next to our flight number. Well, shit. Off we trudge to the baggage service counter.
This is Eric's reaction when I won't stop asking for snuggle time.
They find Eric's bag in the system, and it's coming in on flight so-and-so from L.A. in about an hour. They can't find mine at all, but it's probably on the same flight. "Probably?" They can deliver them to our hotel when they arrive- would we like that? No, we decide that we'd much rather have baggage in hand when we leave, so we'll wait. At least we have an actual flight number for Eric's bag.
So, we have a couple beers at the airport "piano" bar, where there's a guy with a Yamaha keyboard playing a very bizarre collection of songs, including Eminem's "8 Mile"- which, if you're wondering, does not translate well to a solo Yamaha keyboard. When the time comes, we head off down the row of baggage carousels toward the appointed one for Eric's bag's flight- and then I see something out of the corner of my eye..... can it be?.... it is!! It's MY bag, on some other carousel, and I just so happened to spot it! I have no idea how long it's been there, going around, making friends, hitting on the cute little pink daypack from Germany- it came in on some other flight, and I may never have seen it again if I hadn't been looking at just the right spot at the right time! On the tag, there was a hand-written flight number. I looked it up later out of curiosity- it was a flight from Cincinnati!! How did it get routed through Cincinnati? I've never even been there- but my suitcase has!! How many other cities did it go to? Anyway, one down, one to go.... We make it to the right spot for Eric's bag, and.... and.... "LAST BAG". Nothing. Well, shit. Back to the counter. After searching the computer for a bit, the girl actually sighed and said, "This is the third time today I've had to go look for a bag," and left. She didn't even go to the "lost bag" room or whatever- she went off toward the carousels. I think she literally had to do the same thing I did by accident- go look at all the carousels until she found the right bag. Eventually she did, and we left for the hotel. In the final count, we landed about 6:00, but left the airport about 9:00. And ultimately, it was because people in Fresno can't tell time.
The rest of the Atlanta experiences really weren't that interesting, so I won't bore you any further. You got some pictures anyway. But here's a postscript: I figured our experience was worth a mention to United Customer Service to see- again- if they would be willing to give us a couple more vouchers. I sent a polite but firm email, and just the other day I finally got a friendly response- they still couldn't give us free tix, but we now each have a $50 credit toward another seat. Not all that bad, considering we already have a free one.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Here's a view from our hotel room.
Wow! Now if THAT doesn't intrigue you, then you're just not... um... intriguable! So, here we go:
Once again, Chef Eric DeGroot and I are sitting in the Fresno airport early in the AM, waiting for our flight. We're flying to San Francisco and then direct to Atlanta. With memories still fresh from the last time we flew- and we're taking United again (check my previous blogs if you want a reminder of our journey to Chicago)- we're hoping for a smooth day of travel this time. I also believe in the Tooth Fairy and I plan to get rich through a pyramid scheme.
Suddenly, breaking the calm of the terminal, a voice: "Passenger DeGroot, please report to the customer service counter." We look at each other with an unspoken but definite communication of, "You gotta be shittin' me. What now?" Well, I don't know if they picked Eric's name at random or what, but we're told that one of our flights is overbooked, and would we be willing to be rerouted through L.A., get to Atlanta a mere one hour later than planned, and get free round-trip vouchers for our trouble? Okay, I've been offered the voucher thing before, but never a whole free round trip (good only in the 48 contiguous states, but still, that's pretty damn good). Eric was a little wary, but my reaction was, "Wow! Free ticket!" So, I talk Eric into it, we say, "Sure!"- and with that, Eric and I proceeded to bend over and allow United Airlines to have its way with our respective anuses. But I digress.
It turns out we had to do this transaction immediately, because our flight to L.A. was already boarding. She booked us on a flight- a Delta flight- that was leaving L.A. at 12:30 and arriving in Atlanta at 7:30. She printed our trip vouchers, new flight info, rerouted our baggage, we were good to go.
Flew to L.A. with no problem. We look at our new flight cards- all they had was flight number and times, no gate number, no seat number- and it obviously wasn't a boarding pass. So, we figured we should go find a Delta service counter and find out what the deal was. We find one, ask the guy about it, he looks at our flight info quizzically for a moment, and tells us, "This says A.M."
Blink....blink....what? Yup. Following in the grand tradition of United Airlines desk agents, specifically the ones in Fresno (see previous post), she wasn't paying close enough attention to the flight times. But since the date was correct... yes, do the math.... we are booked on LAST NIGHT'S FLIGHT. In fact, according to our itinerary, we are already in Atlanta!!!
Here's a view from our hotel room at night. Or during a total eclipse. Or in the sunless world of "The Matrix". Naaah, I think it's just at night.
This is the point where my brain does a 180 degree turn and tap dances inside my skull. We're booked on a flight that no longer exists. At the time she reserved us for it, our flight had already landed 2 1/2 hours earlier. HOW THE HELL did it even come up in the system as being an available flight? I suppose I can understand- if not entirely forgive- that she just didn't notice the "A" as she was rushing to rebook us, but again, WHY DOES THE FLIGHT COME UP AT ALL?
Well, now we're in the proverbial pickle. Not only do we have to travel backward in time to catch our flight- which admittedly would be way cool- but Delta Man also tells us that our names are not in their system AT ALL. Apparently our bags are- but as Rod would say, they've been rerouted... to The Twilight Zone. He apologizes and says, rightly so, that it's United's mistake so we're going to have to talk to them. So, we trudge over to the United counter, wait and watch as they reduce some poor woman to tears because they have to send her to Baltimore instead of her reserved flight to Washington, and then we get to plead our case. The girl- and I use that term literally- found us an 11:00 flight, a Delta one again since United wasn't available. I decided to take a chance- it couldn't hurt, I figured: I asked, since we were already given free trip vouchers for the relatively small inconvenience of being an hour late, and since booking us on a non-existent flight is a much more egregious error, could we possibly get additional vouchers so we can take a friend on this theoretical trip somewhere? She said, "Well no, I can't give you that- but I can give you meal vouchers." Meal vouchers. Again with the meal vouchers. Only $7.50 this time, and only good inside that specific terminal. Hmph. Well, we took them. And Eric pleasantly declares that since we have two hours at this point, we can go find our gate, then come back and eat. The girl says, "Um... I don't think you'll have time." "Why not?" say we. "This is a Delta flight." "Yeah....?" "You have to go to another terminal." "Okay....." "You have to go through security again." Blink....blink.... WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
This derelict building has a swastika painted on the top, along with the words "White Power". Lovely. I think it's just graffiti, but I guess it could be the old "White Power" main headquarters building. In which case, I'm glad it's derelict.
Fucking LAX. Every other modern airport is designed so you can somehow move between the terminals without leaving the "secure" zone. Not LAX. It grew so haphazardly and is designed so poorly that you can't get to the whole airport from wherever you are. And now we're getting royally screwed because of it. I can't believe we're being sent through security. Plus, we STILL have to talk to Delta to get boarding passes. Holy crap.
So, off we go, past the big yellow line into the unsecured world that's crawling with terrorists, find the Delta checkin counter- at least we don't have bags to check- and discover that, surprise!!!!!- we are STILL not in the system. At all. But, the nice Delta lady says she can get us on that flight- good thing, since we were just booked on it- and assures us that our bags will be fine. Hmmmm. Well, at least we now have actual boarding passes, and our gate is.... back in the terminal we JUST CAME FROM. As a matter of fact, it's exactly where we talked to the Delta guy the first time. We probably could have taken care of it with him, and would never have had to leave and face security, but we took the word of United Girl. Fuck. Well at least we'll be able to use the terminal-specific meal vouchers that United so generously coughed up (which we wouldn't even have been offered if I hadn't asked).
This is the view down through the "world's largest atrium" from the balcony right outside our room door.
Security line. Not that long, really. But they end up treating us a little differently, and I didn't realize why until later- we are now in the category of Same-Day Reservations, which thanks to 9/11 means Security Threat. Somehow, there's an indication on our boarding passes which they're supposed to see, especially since you now have to hold your pass for them to see as you go through the metal detector. To give you some confidence about the current state of airport security, the guy didn't even catch Eric's and almost didn't catch mine- he waved me through, then said "Wait a sec-" called me back, looked again, and said, "Oh, you have to stand over here," motioning me to a little fenced-off area that might as well have been marked, "Please laugh at my pain." A very serious-looking gentleman came over and politely but firmly gave me the full treatment- including a pat-down and yes, The Wand. After being satisfied that I wasn't a danger to National Security, he sent me on my way. I joined Eric and the meal vouchers almost paid for our breakfast burritos.
This is the kind of thing you see when your hotel is full of conventioneers. Did the wine not make it onto the elevator, or just barely make it off? Hmmmm.
So, boarding time eventually arrives, and we're standing in line to finally get on this damn plane. Eric hands the woman his boarding pass. She pauses and speaks apologetically.
"Oh...um.... this isn't your fault....."
You have got to be FUCKING KIDDING.... NOW WHAT???
"It's security's fault...."
Oh. My. God......
"This pass needs to be stamped by them."
Have you ever seen "Brazil"? That's what I'm living at this point.
"You're going to have to go back there and get a stamp before we can let you on the plane."
FUCK!!!
And of course this is true of both of us, because we are both Security Threats. They didn't even search Eric the first time, but although I did get searched, they forgot to stamp mine as well. So, the gate agent, who really was very helpful, escorted us to security, which luckily was only about 100 feet away, and we didn't have to stand in line. They took us aside, searched us, and after almost forgetting to stamp it again- that's what we came over here for, dammit!- they sent us on our way, they let us on the plane, and all was good.
Here's a view from the Centennial Olympic Park, which is where the bombing happened during the 1996 Olympics, but it's still a nice park. If you were to turn 90 degrees to the right of this view, you'd be looking at CNN headquarters and the enormous convention hall where our show was.
The flight to Atlanta was fine. I had good airline movies on this trip for a change- "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" going there, and "Batman Begins" coming back. They also showed "Bewitched" coming back, but we won't really talk about that one. We landed at ATL and went to face the dragon- would we have any baggage? If you've never been to the airport in Atlanta- or even if you have- it's one of the world's largest. It's huge, and the baggage claim alone goes on forever with many baggage carousels. We track down the carousel with our flight flashing on it, and wait...... you guessed it. Nothing, and the board is flashing "LAST BAG" next to our flight number. Well, shit. Off we trudge to the baggage service counter.
This is Eric's reaction when I won't stop asking for snuggle time.
They find Eric's bag in the system, and it's coming in on flight so-and-so from L.A. in about an hour. They can't find mine at all, but it's probably on the same flight. "Probably?" They can deliver them to our hotel when they arrive- would we like that? No, we decide that we'd much rather have baggage in hand when we leave, so we'll wait. At least we have an actual flight number for Eric's bag.
So, we have a couple beers at the airport "piano" bar, where there's a guy with a Yamaha keyboard playing a very bizarre collection of songs, including Eminem's "8 Mile"- which, if you're wondering, does not translate well to a solo Yamaha keyboard. When the time comes, we head off down the row of baggage carousels toward the appointed one for Eric's bag's flight- and then I see something out of the corner of my eye..... can it be?.... it is!! It's MY bag, on some other carousel, and I just so happened to spot it! I have no idea how long it's been there, going around, making friends, hitting on the cute little pink daypack from Germany- it came in on some other flight, and I may never have seen it again if I hadn't been looking at just the right spot at the right time! On the tag, there was a hand-written flight number. I looked it up later out of curiosity- it was a flight from Cincinnati!! How did it get routed through Cincinnati? I've never even been there- but my suitcase has!! How many other cities did it go to? Anyway, one down, one to go.... We make it to the right spot for Eric's bag, and.... and.... "LAST BAG". Nothing. Well, shit. Back to the counter. After searching the computer for a bit, the girl actually sighed and said, "This is the third time today I've had to go look for a bag," and left. She didn't even go to the "lost bag" room or whatever- she went off toward the carousels. I think she literally had to do the same thing I did by accident- go look at all the carousels until she found the right bag. Eventually she did, and we left for the hotel. In the final count, we landed about 6:00, but left the airport about 9:00. And ultimately, it was because people in Fresno can't tell time.
The rest of the Atlanta experiences really weren't that interesting, so I won't bore you any further. You got some pictures anyway. But here's a postscript: I figured our experience was worth a mention to United Customer Service to see- again- if they would be willing to give us a couple more vouchers. I sent a polite but firm email, and just the other day I finally got a friendly response- they still couldn't give us free tix, but we now each have a $50 credit toward another seat. Not all that bad, considering we already have a free one.
And that's all I have to say about that.
posted by Zonthar at
2:31 PM
4 Comments:
Phew! Dabney Coleman was in this movie, wasn't he? And Lisa Kudrow played the check-in clerk in Fresno, I bet.
Damn, man... quite the amazing story. So, did your bag (voiced by John Goodman) fess up to getting lucky with that pink German daypack?
BTW... posted a new Picture Daze on mine.
--ever think about traveling by train?!?!?!?!?
Wow! That sounds like one hell of a time to get to my good old ATL. I hope you had a little bit of fun when you got here.
Lecram- Actually, my bag was voiced by Ned Beatty, but your confusion was understandable- and yes, my randy little bag will soon be the father of a crop of fanny packs and fuzzy wallets.
apj- I'm a little shocked to hear you say that, considering your name.
Lilith- the trip was mostly work without a lot of extra time, but we did make it to Virginia-Highland one night. It reminds me a lot of my own neighborhood in Fresno, just on a larger scale.
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