The Odyssey

Here was what was supposed to go down. My girlfriend and I booked a vacation to West Palm Beach Florida for spring break. For less than $400 each. Not to toot my own horn, but I am pretty much of a stud at booking cheap travel, and this was good even for me: reasonable flight times, 3.5 star hotel, easy ground transportation – I was on top of the world. I couldn’t see how anything could possibly go wrong.
As a frame of reference, here is our original itinerary, as it was emailed to me by the travel agency:
Departing Flight Information - Monday, March 16, 2009 (Arrives Monday, March 16, 2009)
Delta Airlines
(operated by Skywest Airlines)

Flight 4597
2h 0m , 607mi From
Chicago - O'Hare Intl (ORD)
Chicago, IL
Departs: 1:10 P.M. To
Atlanta - Hartsfield Intl (ATL)
Atlanta, GA
Arrives: 4:10 P.M. Aircraft
Canadair Regional Jet 900 (Jet)
Economy/Coach Class
Delta Airlines

Flight 2045
1h 53m , 582mi From
Atlanta - Hartsfield Intl (ATL)
Atlanta, GA
Departs: 5:05 P.M. To
Fort Lauderdale - Hollywood Intl (FLL)
Fort Lauderdale, FL
Arrives: 6:58 P.M. Aircraft
Boeing 757 (Jet)
Economy/Coach Class

We were going to take a shuttle to the airport, and then light rail to our hotel. Perfect. Here’s what actually happened:

Our shuttle bus to ORD left early, which might seem sweet, but actually was not, because we barely made it on board. We checked in and got through security with relatively little problem (save for the fact that I left my driver’s license on the conveyor belt so it ended up falling on the ground under the x-ray scanner and I couldn’t find it until a guy who looked like Morgan Freeman picked it up and gave it back to me). Here is the time frame for what happened next. All times are approximate.

12:16pm – I go to TCBY express to purchase what turns out to be one of the most woefully unsatisfying pre-made chicken and bacon wraps I have ever eaten from the cooler in the hallway of the terminal between the restroom and gate B16 but which for some inexplicable reason I still had to pay for at TCBY.

12:25pm – I come back to my gate, sandwich in hand to find out that our 1:10pm outgoing flight to ATL has been delayed until 2:30. Which wouldn’t be a big deal except for the fact that it wasn’t slated to arrive until 5:05pm. Refer to original itinerary if you are confused as to why this is a problem.

12:27pm – I talk to gate agent, who tells me I have two options. I can either go to ATL as scheduled and take my chances flying standby the rest of the way to FLL, or I reroute on a 3:20pm through Cincinnati (CVG) and be guaranteed a seat on an 8:15pm to FLL, arriving at 10:46pm. The last light rail train leaves the FLL train station at 9:52pm. I curse the gods and choose the latter.

12:35pm – I talk to another gate agent to bumps us up to a 1:20pm departure to CVG. Whatever.

12:42pm – I call my hotel in West Palm for what will be the first of many times, and let them know that I will not be checking in until after midnight.

12:44pm – I book a cab for the 50 mile drive from FLL to the hotel in West Palm.

12:45pm – My credit card hurts.

12:52pm – I board the plane bound for CVG.

1:22pm – wheels up.

3:29pm (Local, EDT) – we arrive CVG. I do some quick calculations, realize that I have 4 hours and 45 mintues to kill in the Cincinnati airport, and proceed to get furious.

6:02pm – I eat dinner at Max & Erma’s in the airport.

Ed. Note – 3:30-6:01pm was spent engaging in pursuits that aren’t even interesting enough for this blog. Which is saying something.

6:25pm – the food immediately causes me to crap fire.

6:45pm – I proceed to the gate, minus the weight of a small child.
7:10pm – the departure time is delayed to 8:30pm.

7:10:03pm – I start getting a bad feeling about the flight.

7:15pm – I call the hotel again to confirm my late arrival.

7:35pm – still no airplane at the gate.

7:45pm – the gate agent comes on the intercom and tells us that since the plane we were supposed to take is broken, we have to wait for a plane to arrive from Syracuse. At 9:16pm.

7:45:13pm – I wonder aloud how the fuck an airport that serves as a national hub for the airline I am flying can’t have one extra airplane hanging around. Apparently the recession affects everyone.

7:55pm – the flight departure is delayed until 9:35. I immediately call bullshit, because Jesus couldn’t turn around a full flight from Syracuse in 20 minutes. I don’t even think that’s legal.

7:56pm – I wait in line to talk to gate agent.

7:58pm – I want to pistol whip the old, bitchy couple in line in front of me. They are absolutely the worst type of people. I understand where Poe got the idea for his story about the man who killed his wife and buried her in his basement.

8:05pm – I talk to the gate agent. She gives me two options. Either I can remain on the “9:35pm,” or I can rebook to a 9am flight tomorrow morning. I call the hotel again, and tell them that I am going to be delayed again. Until tomorrow afternoon. They are surprisingly cool about this. I go back up to the gate and rebook for the next morning. I don’t have the energy for any more bullshit.

8:15pm – I call the hotel on airport property, and ask them to quote me a room for one night. $179.00. I immediately hang up the phone, and break out my computer. Hotwire.com allows same day bookings until 11pm and I will be damned if I am going to get fucked over by the Cincinnati airport Sheraton.

Let me pause here to say that Hotwire is the best resource a traveler can have. They have never let me down with a hotel booking yet.

8:19pm – I book a room at the Hilton for $65.00. This not only a higher rated hotel than the Sheraton, but they also offer a free airport shuttle. Suck it Sheraton.

8:25pm – I call the cab to cancel my reservation. I casually remark to my girlfriend that we are probably spending less on our hotel than we would be on the cab from FLL to West Palm.

8:35pm – Complimentary shuttle arrives, driver offers me complimentary bottle of water. I am happy with the hotel I booked not 20 minutes ago.

8:40pm – I find out that everyone else on the shuttle whose itinerary got destroyed received compensation from the airline. I got reminded not to let the door hit me in the ass on the way out of the baggage terminal. Fuck Delta Airlines.

8:50pm – I check into my room, which I’m sure was nicer than the one I would have gotten at the Sheraton.

8:55pm – I proceed immediately to the hotel bar.

8:56pm – I order a Chopin martini, straight up, with a twist.

9:01pm – I finish my martini, close out, and go back up to my room.

I don’t remember much after this, I think I was asleep.

6:15am (next day) – my alarm goes off.

6:15:00.06 – I curse everything that is good and holy.

6:55am – I get into the shuttle back to the airport.

7:15am – I check in – flight is on time…for now. Gate A14.

7:25am – Gate is changed to B07.

7:45am – I explain to the gate agent that my girlfriend and I have been trying to get to FLL for 23.5 hours and counting, and that it would be nice if they could upgrade us to first class so we could get some sleep on the flight. She tells me that first class is booked, but blocks our whole row so we can have room to spread out. Perhaps there are some redeemable people left in the world.

8:30am – flight begins to board…on time. It’s a Christmas Miracle.

9:02am – Wheels up. Incredible.

9:05am – I fall into a comatose sleep.

9:55am – I am startled awake by beverage service. I almost crap myself from a combination of shock, and not having a clue where I am.

9:57am – I drink my stale ice water and slip back into my coma.

11:12am – Flight arrives FLL – 20 minutes early.

11:13am – I begin booking it through the airport in search of the light rail station, in hopes of catching the 11:32am train to West Palm.
11:19 – I am thoroughly confused by the signs in the baggage terminal that are right next to each other, each indication that the tri-rail station is the opposite direction from the other.

11:26 – After a full on sprint through 2.5 baggage terminals, I find out that there is, in fact, no tri-rail station at the airport as indicated by the tri-rail website, FLL airport website, Fort Lauderdale chamber of Tourism, all printed airport information, and my hotel. There is instead a small sign, located 9 feet from the ground on a street light pole, indicating a shuttle bus stop that takes people to the actual tri-rail station, which ends up being located about 10 minutes away from the airport. Nice.

11:41 – The shuttle bus arrives. It has cardboard signs that denote it as such. They look hand lettered.

11:55 – We arrive at the tri-rail station just in time to watch the train we need (which, mind you, is running approximately 25 minutes behind schedule) pull out of the station.

12:32 – Our train does not arrive as promised.

12:46 – Our train arrives. Only 14 minutes late.

1:44 – We arrive the West Palm Tri-Rail station.

1:45 – We take a cab to the hotel.

1:51 – We check in to the hotel…only 16 hours and 51 minutes late.


Stay tuned, it only gets better.