Goose Bumps for a Day
With almost one hour of something that vaguely resembled sleep and an ice cold shower (thanks to Hornthalstraße’s lack of hot water between 10pm and 6am) behind me and one last look to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind, I closed the door to room 410 for the final time and headed to the Bahnhof. The train and airport terminal changes made me wish I could learn to travel lightly, but with the exception of random bruises and aching muscles the next day, no serious scars were left behind. But I can’t say the same for my airport experiences…
I was standing in line for boarding, two hours after checking in and having been handed my boarding passes, when the (horrifically rude and borderline evil) Air France lady – the same one who checked me in – suddenly rushed over to me and told me to come with her. A little puzzled, I asked why. Well, she claimed my ticket wasn’t paid for, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of line to a counter where she immediately made a call to put my luggage on standby. Thinking of the wedding I had to attend the next day, knowing that I had in fact paid for my ticket over a year ago, and being more than a little emotional (I don’t do well with one hour of “sleep”), I was instantly reduced to tears. Being far too tired to coherently argue my case or cause a scene, I mumbled through sobs when and where my ticket had been paid for. Well, the lovely Air France lady pretty much called me a liar and told me to shut up, but the impending take off and the afore mentioned wedding I couldn’t miss led me to repeat the name and location of my travel agent. After about five minutes and some more insults from the Air France lady, she suddenly had some sort of epiphany and realized that my ticket was in fact bought and paid for (did she think I made it all the way to Germany on a return ticket that wasn’t paid for?!?).
So, following this woman’s acknowledgment that I paid for my ticket, did I get an apology or an ‘I’m sorry for the misunderstanding’ or any sort of remorse on her part for causing me such unwelcome panic and stress?? Oh no, nothing but a “Just go!” from the Air France lady who’s name I don’t even know but who I think I may be on the verge of hating.
Anyways, that’s the short version of the worst part of my airport experience. I had problems in every airport I was in, but they all seemed like nothing compared to being called a liar, told to shut up and almost being pulled off what I knew was the last flight I could be on to get home in time for the wedding.
But it wasn’t all bad. The good: airplanes and airports have air conditioning. I literally had goose bumps for an entire day and loved every minute of it. My neighbour kept offering me his blanket and just gave me puzzled looks when I replied that I was fine, but he just didn’t understand that I was coming from a land sans air conditioning where I was averaging three showers a day.
And, of course, the best part of the day: touchdown on home turf. A warm summer evening and my first glimpse of the prairies in 11 months, the Bienvenue au Canada signs that I always associate with coming home, and family and friends I’ve grown up with greeting me with smiles, tears, hugs and kisses. There’s no place like home.
I was standing in line for boarding, two hours after checking in and having been handed my boarding passes, when the (horrifically rude and borderline evil) Air France lady – the same one who checked me in – suddenly rushed over to me and told me to come with her. A little puzzled, I asked why. Well, she claimed my ticket wasn’t paid for, grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of line to a counter where she immediately made a call to put my luggage on standby. Thinking of the wedding I had to attend the next day, knowing that I had in fact paid for my ticket over a year ago, and being more than a little emotional (I don’t do well with one hour of “sleep”), I was instantly reduced to tears. Being far too tired to coherently argue my case or cause a scene, I mumbled through sobs when and where my ticket had been paid for. Well, the lovely Air France lady pretty much called me a liar and told me to shut up, but the impending take off and the afore mentioned wedding I couldn’t miss led me to repeat the name and location of my travel agent. After about five minutes and some more insults from the Air France lady, she suddenly had some sort of epiphany and realized that my ticket was in fact bought and paid for (did she think I made it all the way to Germany on a return ticket that wasn’t paid for?!?).
So, following this woman’s acknowledgment that I paid for my ticket, did I get an apology or an ‘I’m sorry for the misunderstanding’ or any sort of remorse on her part for causing me such unwelcome panic and stress?? Oh no, nothing but a “Just go!” from the Air France lady who’s name I don’t even know but who I think I may be on the verge of hating.
Anyways, that’s the short version of the worst part of my airport experience. I had problems in every airport I was in, but they all seemed like nothing compared to being called a liar, told to shut up and almost being pulled off what I knew was the last flight I could be on to get home in time for the wedding.
But it wasn’t all bad. The good: airplanes and airports have air conditioning. I literally had goose bumps for an entire day and loved every minute of it. My neighbour kept offering me his blanket and just gave me puzzled looks when I replied that I was fine, but he just didn’t understand that I was coming from a land sans air conditioning where I was averaging three showers a day.
And, of course, the best part of the day: touchdown on home turf. A warm summer evening and my first glimpse of the prairies in 11 months, the Bienvenue au Canada signs that I always associate with coming home, and family and friends I’ve grown up with greeting me with smiles, tears, hugs and kisses. There’s no place like home.
posted by Ang at 20:04
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