Flying the Friendly Skies

It’s probably best not to get myself talking about airports for fear that I might have a ‘flashback,’ but I certainly have never been a VIP customer for any airline, nor have I ever been treated like one.
Last Friday, Bryan and I rolled into DFW International Airport at 7:11am for a 7:35am flight. We all know how this story goes. Come late and watch the flight attendant staff turn into an army of ruthless individuals. So I’m cruising ahead, checking us in manually on the computerized screen, when a ‘lady’ comes from behind, let’s me know that I’m late, presses one of the buttons on the screen, and informs me she has now put us on standby for another flight that departs three hours later. I kindly smile back at her and ask her why she just did that without asking permission. ‘Because you’re late,’ she says. I am now crimson. At this time in the morning, no one is particularly friendly or alert–so I corral Bryan and we head through the slowest security line possible. Of course they ask me to remove my jacket, only to showcase a white tee shirt I was wearing without the appropriate undergarments to accompany it. We get to the counter where I present our fake tickets. She says, ‘looks like you’re on the next flight.’ Yes, thanks to your bozo staff up front, I am. She informs us this flight is full, naturally. I know this is bullcorn. I see 15 people waiting on stand-by for this flight ‘ahead’ of us. I know there is always another seat on an airline.
I start having my flashback to about a year and a half ago on the Fourth of July weekend. I was bumped by an oversold flight, left to lay (deathly sick) in the airport for three hours until the next flight arrived. I had gotten bitten by a spider (I kid you not) on my left breast and I was nauseous, had fever, and this particular member of my body had nearly doubled in size. If not for the awkward and painfulness of the situation, I might have actually been blessed. I had vowed not to let things like this ever happen again.
Needless to say, you don’t mess with me in airports since that ridiculous day. I explain to Bryan that I am ‘going home’ if we don’t make this flight, making my terms not only crazy but assuring him I have now turned on airport mode. He walks up to the counter, returns, picks up my bags, and we are on the flight in front of all the other people. That’s what I’m talking about AA.

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