LEAVIN' LAS VEGAS

I was 5 minutes late for the 45 minute check in that Frontier Airlines requires (though nowhere on my e-ticket did it say that). I wasn’t really concerned because there was no line at check in, save for the mom and 2 kids in front of me. The ticket agent whose God given name is Kristen (her Kerri Van Auken given name is so much worse and I want a PG-13 blog) asked if I was on this flight to Denver. It told her yes, expecting her to say, “hurry, let’s get you through” as has happened to me many times before, she flat out said that I wasn’t getting on the plan. I told her that I was a fast walker and she said, no way was I going to make it through security and to the D gates in time. While remaining calm and friendly asked her please let me try to make my flight. She said no, absolutely not. I have to mention that she did not smile, smirk, laugh or come close to breaking that death glare, pinched face, bitch voice at any time. She then said she was putting my bags on standby for the next flight and I could try to go on that flight, but she can’t guarantee. I thanked her in my daze of confusion and leftover martini and hauled ass to the gate. I freakin’ made it and elicited an admiring “Wow” from the security people who marveled at how I removed bangles, shoes and a hat in about 1.5 seconds. Don’t tell me I can’t make my flight.

So, I arrive at the gate and approach the ticket agent there. Richard Anderson did not look pleased to see me. I on the other hand was thrilled to see that the plane had not arrived. Yay! I can get on. I told him what happened and he started to slowly type some things on the computer and tell me what I already new, which was that stupid hag Kristen, had not checked me in. I said well I’m here now can we do it? He sighed and heaved and started pecking at the keys again. I was perplexed as to why, since I was there and since the plane was not, why they still wouldn’t let me on the flight. Had they closed the doors and boarding I would have understood, but this…again he told me he couldn’t do anything. I asked to speak to a manager and then he made a call and came back to me saying that the manager was Miss Kristen Piss Face and that she wasn’t going to help me. Meanwhile the plane arrives and passengers begin deplaning. I again try to plead to Richards’s rational side by saying that I was a paying customer and that I was here and ready and there was no real reason on God’s green earth why I shouldn’t be put on my flight.

Again, I’m subject to that vacant, vapid, sad sack look that I will become so accustomed to in dealing with the Frontier ground crew, along with a sigh asking if I had any bags. I told him that World’s Happiest Manger Kristen had put them on standby for the next flight. Richard seemed relieved by this and told me I have to travel with my bags. Then he walked away. I couldn’t leave as I was utterly stunned. I looked over Richard (who now deserves to be called Dick) and he was whispering behind a clipboard to the two young women who were taking boarding passes. They both shot me darting glances. This is utter crap; our bags went winging to Jamaica last year while Mars and I were stuck in Miami eating sauceless personal pan pizzas. IF I hear “ever since 9/11” one more time…

I was at a loss. I couldn’t throw a fit or I would be arrested. How could you trust these employees who barely look you in the eye, and when they do they look at you like you’re nothing but a problem for them. They wouldn’t hesitate to evoke their rent-a-cop status to a rent-a-cop w/ a gun. So, because I need to rail and to feel superior somehow, I call my assistant Sylvia from my dead charger less cell phone and tell her that I wouldn’t be able to make the conference and to get a hold of my editor at the TRIBUNE and get some AP interns from Northwestern University or Columbia, and the capper, “Obama is going to be pissed.” It was comforting to pretend like Obama would care.

I waited there until MY plane was boarding I tried to ask the ticket taker employees, one young African American girl with a head band and short braids, the other a woman of Latina descent, both appearing about 20-22. Neither of them would look at me to answer any of my questions. They would either fiddle with some papers, type on the keyboard or simply walk away from me. I have to point out that I had yet to raise my voice beyond an excited “Please, please, can you let me on this plane?” I’d not insulted, scowled, glared, condescended to, swore or anything that would peg me as a difficult or unmanageable passenger. Conversely, all of those things had been done to me by multiple Frontier ground employees.

Then I go use my remaining $2.90 in change to call my husband to cry. That change was about 3 minutes worth. I then call back collect using the name “Butt Ram” just to show him I wasn’t entirely down for the count. He did his best to make me feel better, but I still couldn’t believe how unwilling and bitter these customer services sloth’s had been to even attempt to help me. I truthfully felt sick to my stomach. I go back down to ticketing to just buy another ticket home from Southwest. The line was too long. I bought a prepaid calling card (HELLOOO 1995!) and called my mom who was coincidentally flying into Vegas with her friend Mike. She didn’t answer so she must be up in the air. I called my husband back and had him call her and tell her to page me in the terminal when she landed.

After that I notice a short black guy in glasses over at the Frontier counter. I stupidly think he may be able to help me at least get bumped up the standby list and show me my options once I got to Denver. Again I’m greeted with a sigh and a glare. Now I’ve been flying on a regular basis for 30 years and I know how to deal with customer service people. It’s annoying enough to have a customer service rep. that does their job and helps but is sort of rude about it and may be generally unhappy with their life, but it is a complete travesty to have someone who is both unhelpful and doesn’t even meet the minimum requirements of being able to communicate with human beings. Dudley was about to become the new Kristen.

I approach the desk as he looks at me as if I were a million pound weight that was to be strapped to his back. I explained my plight as quickly as I could. He was either very Zen or very retarded. I couldn’t tell at that point. He said he couldn’t tell if I would get on standby until that flight was closed. He went on to say that he couldn’t guarantee me a seat on the flight from Denver to Chicago and there were only two seats left. The only way to guarantee is to buy a one way ticket from Denver to Chicago. Fine. It can’t be more than spending the night in a Denver hotel, eating, cab, etc. He told me it would cost $225. Fine, fine. Here’s my card. So he’s typing away for literally 10 minutes, not really answering my questions. Then I hear, “Kerri”. It was my mom and her friend Mike. I just said, ‘I need you.” There was something so amazingly kick ass and strengthening to have your mom show up at a time like this. Unless, of course, your mom works for Frontier on the ground crew, in which case, she probably sucks ass.

A major line is forming behind me. Dudley is still typing and would not make eye contact to answer any of my mom or Mike’s questions. None of us can really believe that I hadn’t been allowed to board the plane in the first place even though I beat it to the gate. She said she new all along that she’d see me, even before Mars’ call. Boy, she’s just like that sometimes. FINALLY Dudley stops typing as said that while we’ve been standing here the ticket price had gone up to $409!!!. What the F#%@!? Fine, here you go you aviating pocket rapists, you flying buttresses, take my mom’s credit card because I didn’t have enough cash in my checking account to cover it. Yeah, I’m 33. That felt awesome. While Dudley is taking my mother’s hard earned money, Dick Anderson waddles back up to the counter and asks if I’m feeling better. My inner dialogue said, “Go F#$% yourself fat ass!” while I actually said, “No, not really, but my mom’s here. Thank you for asking.” My mother, who knows my temper soooooooo well, was extremely proud and shocked really, about how I held it together and remained polite during this whole ordeal.

I hated being polite mind you. Just hated it. I wanted to hit, punch, throw, yell, scream, insult, bash, call names, and be extremely witty yet hurtful. HOWEVER, I knew damn well that these miscreants would not hesitate to call security and throw my ass in jail, which would end up costing a lot more than $400.00.

We stood there waiting to see if I would be getting on this next flight ready to have them go get my bags off the flight if they weren’t going to let me on. Dudley did call my name; I thanked him as I grabbed my boarding pass. Note: I THANKED him. I didn’t snatch my boarding pass. I remained polite. I think the Lord had a reign around my neck. Either that or I was in shock over this whole ordeal. I kissed my mom and hugged Mike and boarded the plane.

My seat is in the emergency row which is nice because there’s a bit more leg room. The nice, pretty flight attendant stops and asks If I’m comfortable sitting in the exit row. I tell her I can’t wait. She laughed. The next thing you know I see her coming back down the aisle with Dudley behind her. What was going on? What did I do now? Why do they suck so much? I hear her asking people in the seats around me if they wouldn’t mind switching seats with me. I was extremely confused. I’d just told her I was happy to be in the emergency row. The gentleman directly in front of me said he’s switch (what do these Vegas passengers care, they were just going to pass out anyway.) so I got up to switch with him. I joked to the man next to me that “they didn’t trust me.” The flight attendant smiled and laughed and told me that that wasn’t it. Dudley then helpfully chimed in, “YOU’VE HAD A BIT TO DRINK.”

I thought I was going to die. I have never in my life been so stunned, humiliated and pissed off all at the same time. I sat down and literally put my head down because I knew everyone was staring at me. Still, as I type this, I really cannot believe that it actually happened.

The flight attendant came back and offered to buy my Direct TV for me. I pursed my lips with my head still down and shook it “no.” She came back again during beverage service and asked if I wanted anything. Again, “No.” She knelt down and said how sorry she was that that had happened. That Dudley thought he smelled alcohol on me. HELLOOOOOOOOO, this is VEGAS not SALT LAKE. I’d bet 1 million dollars that the majority of the people on the plane smelled like booze. Hell, I’d been out until 4:00am and I knew my mouth tasted like crap, I knew I probably smelled, but I also new that I was not drunk. She actually argued with Dudley and said that she’d talked to me and didn’t think I was the least bit drunk. I explained that I wasn’t and that I most certainly was last night, but most certainly was not now. She said, yeah, she didn’t know what went on out there with him, but she thought it was weird.

I didn’t think it was weird. I thought that it was perfectly consistent with how I’d been treated up to this point.

The rest of the leg was long, but uneventful. Well, besides the delay the 90 minute delay in Denver. When I finally landed in Chicago at 1:15a CST (was supposed to have landed at 4:40p) I felt like I’d been beaten from the inside out. My spirit had been crushed by a mother f@#%ing airline. I will not even bother to defend these people at Frontier, not when the security guards, store employees, baggage handlers and the multitude of other workers at McCarron were perfectly pleasant and actually responded accordingly to smiles, pleases and thank yous. What sorts of species are immune to general human pleasantries? Zombies perhaps? Hmmmm…..we may be getting somewhere. The slow movement, the lack of eye contact, the despondent tone, the absent compassion…OH MY GOD!

ALERT, ALERT, ZOMBIES POSING AS FRONTIER AIRLINE TICKET AGENTS FLOCK TO MCCARRON INTERNATIONAL, LAS VEGAS, NEVADA!!!!!!!! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES. THEY WILL SUCK OUT YOUR SOUL. DISMANTLE YOUR DIGNITY AND BASICALLY STICK IT TO YOU JUST BECAUSE THEY CAN. DON’T LET THEM GET YOU. STAY AWAY FROM FRONTIER. YOUR SPIRIT DEPENDS ON IT.