It had been an unusually stress-free day. I was packed. I had lunch with a good friend at a favorite restaurant. I had plenty of time to do everything. I hailed a cab and went to the airport.
I had butterflies when we rounded the corner to drive up on terminal B at LaGuardia. That surprised me. Here we are, we are actually going to do it. I am going overseas alone. I had a reaction to this in my stomach.
I had my boarding pass printed out from home. I had a bag to check, so I went to the bag drop line. It was long. I arrived at the end of the line right behind a group of young Asian women whom I deduced were a touring singing group. They all wore the same jacket and all were dragging at least two large suitcases each.
They formed a makeshift table by pushing their bags together like a pedestal. They broke out some mango cut up in a container and a bag of Asian cookies for lunch. They were obviously very used to their routine. They stood around and had an impromptu meal while we were waiting in line to check bags.
I know that seems odd, but the line wasn't moving. At all. That was my first clue that something was up.
After standing in line behind the same twenty souls for more than half an hour I decided to check the status of my flight. Cancelled. Not late, not delayed. Cancelled. I had two connections to make from this flight. My trip was about to get interesting, and not in a good way.
Ah, that's why all of these people are standing at the bag drop counter not dropping bags.
To make a long story shorter, after another twenty minutes standing behind the Asian pop group I finally got to see an agent. He worked silently and diligently for about 15 minutes. He would stop every few minutes, look up, and say "I'm still working on your options."
The first option he had given me was to simply fly 24 hours later. I asked him if I could re-book my return without paying a change fee, sniffing a solution. I have travel insurance, it went into effect when the flight was cancelled. He told me he could not make any such assurance.
"Really? Well, keep trying then."
He finally booked me on a flight out of Newark that makes it possible for me to make my connection to my original flight leg to Brisbane. I am now at the Newark airport after a loud bumpy trip on a dirty bus awaiting a chance to board the flight to Vancouver. We will see if I can make the connection and get back on my normal itinerary.
Stay tuned.
