Sunday, December 27, 2009

You're gonna love this.

"Hey J," you ask, "It's almost 6 pm on the 27th. Shouldn't you be on your way to Reykjavik?"

Yes, I should.

But, I'm not. And here's why.

On the day of the birth of Our Lord and Saviour, some asshole over Detroit tried to turn himself into a Roman Candle. This means tons of flights into the US in the subsequent days — including mine into Boston, which went on to Reykjavik — got delayed because of the extra pat-downs, frisking, and what I can only imagine (hope?) are incredibly invasive cavity-searches.

I got to Pearson Airport here in Our Home on Native Land, and the first thing to greet me (other than gigantic lineups) was a sign saying my flight to Boston was cancelled.

I waited in a line for an hour, only to be told that I was in the wrong line.

I waited in another line for over an hour, only to be told that the next available flight out of Toronto to Boston would be TUESDAY. That means I would get to Reykjavik on WEDNESDAY, so I could leave on Friday and return Saturday.

Brilliant Idea Alert: I'll man-up, drive to Boston myself, and fly out of there tomorrow to Reykjavik. All I have to do is call up Icelandair and see if it's possible to flip to tomorrow's flight.

Brilliant Idea Possibly Shot Down: Icelandair's North American phone hours are, get this, 9-5 on Monday-Friday, and on Sundays you can only call from 9 to 11 in the morning.

TWO HOURS ON A SUNDAY
WHEN PEOPLE ANSWER
THE GOD DAMN PHONES?!

If you run an airline that only has flights on, say, Tuesdays, I can see how you could have such hours. Or, maybe if you only carry passengers named Matilda, or Rutger, or perchance Aftab. But hey, jerkwads, you run those things every day, all over the world, and we all pay a pretty penny for them, too. The least you thumbdicks could do is put Old Aunt Hagrid on the phones on a Sunday afternoon — when all hell is breaking loose on our side of the pond, too — to make sure people can get where THEY PAID TOP DOLLAR TO GO.

So, now I'm not sure what to do. I called up Expedia, and they said to call the airlines. I called American, who cancelled my first flight to commence the clusterfuck, and the person on the other end was so awful, I actually wrote "TITS ON A BULL" under the "American Airlines" section of my game-plan for today. I called up Icelandair, and you know how that turned out.

There is actually a significant chance that I will not be able to get to Reykjavik.

Rage level... rising.

ECB, want to have an extra New Year's guest in Chicago?

* * * * * * * * * * *

UPDATE: As far as I can tell, my trip is completely kaput. I'm going to try to get refunds from Expedia and/or the airlines involved.

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