Mike’s Comedy Network

I had cleared security even after they found shampoo and toothpaste in my bag. Shampoo and personal hygene products somehow indicates to the TSA that I am a possible Al Queda operative. I pointed out to the screener that ironically, terrorists never use toothpaste or shampoo and that perhaps if they were to use this identification method, they might actually be able to hone in on the bad guys. Grab Omar the greasy haired and check him for lack of Altoids during the pat down. Cause it’s not me, or the 75 year old white woman from Wisconsin named Gunderson.

Then I got Jet Blued by American Airlines.
I was flying Phoenix to Boston through Dallas when American suddenly declared that their flight crew had logged to many hours to continue, and a new group would have to be brought in from Chicago. Are you shitting me American? The crew has flown to many hours? How could an airline ever be expected to schedule a crew to finish their flight?…. and on a beautiful clear day at that? That kind of anticipation is one step away from particle physics. But maybe I’m expecting to much. I mean, rarely in aviation history has a flight crew being able to fly straight thru to their destination. Although that Lindberg guy seemed to do OK.

This tactical snafu by American pushed my 3 o’clock flight back to a 4:30 departure and my connection into the red some 40 minutes. This raised my stress levels from my usual Cranky1 to Cranky2.

My only hope now of making my connection in Dallas was that Americans continued incompetence would somehow delay my second flight. Meanwhile, the gate agents tried to rebook me and the 120 other passengers that were all going to miss their connections onto other flights.
My own agent was a 5 foot chunky Spanish woman with the mange and cankles named Andrea. Andrea used English as a second language, and unfortunately the computer was in English, because she bumbled around the keyboard like a chimp doing a transmission repair.
This walking Rogaine commercial looked like a doll that had been petted to death and then combed out by a 5 year old on a sugar rush. Andrea’s first suggestion at an alternate itinerary was that I take the 8 o’clock out of Phoenix into San Francisco and then take the Red Eye back to Boston and arrive at 5 AM. I pointed out that San Francisco was in the opposite direction of where I was trying to go, and that if she really wanted to send me away from my destination, Hawaii would be a preferable choice for a couple of days.
Andrea informed me that my only choice was a 12 hour layover at a Ramada (We have new carpeting!) in Dallas. She told me that they would be holding my luggage hostage, and that i couldn’t get my bags. “No we keep in special storage for tomorrow”. Special storage? Ya, its called the plane that won’t fly, cause you knuckeheads don’t have a crew.
Hey, why would a traveler ever want to get into their own bags? Who needs socks? Why would you want your cell phone charger, personal products or a change of clothes for the flight that won’t take off till tomorrow 18 hours from now? Shit. Ya all ready took my shampoo and tooth paste. Don’t piss me off or I’ll breath on ya.

I will not be surprised on my 6 am tomorrow if my seat mate of the future blurts out,…. “I smell ass”.

I’ll look to book on anyone BUT American next time.