[LJ Idol Season 9 Topic 24: The Cupertino Effect]
“Are you serious?” Amy tapped her foot on the worn marble of the floor in the check-in area, “That can’t be true.”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” The check-in operator discreetly signaled for a guard to step in, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“What seems to be the problem?” Mere seconds later, the guard was at Amy’s side, hovering over her.
“Mrs. Peterson does not have a valid boarding pass,” the middle-aged clerk pointed out, “It is not in her name.”
“Mister …” Amy paused and peered over her glasses at the name tag on the man’s uniform, “Mister Wilkins, I’m sure you can see that there is a simple misunderstanding here, unlike Mrs. Jansen.”
“Hmmm,” Peter Wilkins grumbled, not in the least pleased that he had to deal with a difficult case at the end of his shift, “And what may that be?”
“My phone autocorrected my name to ‘Pittsburg’,” Amy complained, “But all the rest of the information is right.”
“I’m sorry,” Peter shrugged, “You will have to leave.”
“I should have never used your phone app.” Amy pouted, and Peter Wilkins took pity of her.
“Listen, if there are any vacant seats, we’ll see about arranging your ticket,” he promised, and escorted her back to the waiting area.
***
“Is there still room on the plane?”
Amy’s ears perked up as she heard the woman’s voice, out of breath.
“Do you have a valid reservation?” The operator’s voice was neutral, she barely looked up from her desk.
“No, yes, um, I lost it,” the woman stammered, “I don’t think it went through.”
“Your name?” Unfazed, Whitney Jansen continued tapping away at her keyboard.
“Amy Pittsburgh,” the woman replied.
“This isn’t happening,” Amy Peterson groaned.
“Oh, it appears we did get your reservation,” Whitney chippered, “I’ll reprint your boarding pass.”
“What are the odds!” Amy Peterson inwardly screamed, “Curse you, mercury in retrograde.”
“The birth dates don’t correspond,” Mr. Wilkins pointed out as he was packing up his lunch box, “And we still have that Amy Peterson waiting.”
“It’s nearly 4,” Mrs. Jansen intently looked at the clock, “Have Harris deal with it.”
***
“Is the plane gone?” A young man, panting, suddenly surged in front of Amy, who jumped in her seat.
“Yes,” she hiccupped once she was past her initial surprise, “Yes, it’s gone. Five minutes ago.”
“Damn!” He cursed, falling down in the seat opposite hers. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” she smiled, “I have a few choice words for them too.”
“You missed it too?” His boyish charm suddenly made it a little better that she was stuck in an airport until the airline could find her a seat. Maybe this would be the start of some terrific love story and they’d later laugh and tell their children about serendipity.
“Hello?” With a shock, she awoke from her daydreaming.
“Um, no,” she sheepishly smiled, “There was a mix-up with my boarding pass.”
“Sucks,” he acknowledged, “What happened?”
“Autocorrect,” she sighed and he responded with an all-knowing nod, “Got my name wrong on the phone app.”
“But why didn’t they give you the empty seat then? Overbooked?” He started taking a few papers out of his briefcase, “By the way, my name is Thomas. Thomas Miller.”
“Nice to meet, Tho-“ Amy smiled, but it froze on her face as she was interrupted by a deafening noise, “What was that?!”
“An explosion,” Thomas scrambled towards her as they were covered in debris from the bay windows, “I think the plane exploded.”
Subconsciously, she grabbed his extended hand as the sirens started blaring, and they ran towards the flashing emergency exit lights.
***
“Holy crap,” Amy commented as they were watching footage of the explosion. The crash was on every television channel, as the news story was still unfolding.
“To think we were supposed to be in there,” Thomas shuddered, “I’ll never have been more glad to have overslept.”
“I’ll never curse autocorrect again,” Amy agreed, “We were damn lucky.”
“Preliminary reports show that it could have been a terrorist attack,” the journalist on TV spoke, her blonde hair blowing into her face as she looked very seriously into the camera, “The police cannot confirm that an unknown woman introduced herself on board of the plane with a false identity.” The screen showed a blurry photo of a woman, taken off the security cameras.
“That’s the woman who took my place!” Amy jumped up, “She didn’t have a pass or anything!”
“Shouldn’t you call the police?” Thomas suggested, “That might help their investigation.”
“Nah,” Amy shrugged, “I’m sure they got that information off check-in. Besides, they know where I am, I left the room number when I called to say I wasn’t on the plane.”
***
“Mrs. Peterson?” A loud banging on the door nearly woke the other guests in the hotel. “Mrs. Peterson, open the door, it’s the police!” The officer took a deep breath, before he tried to call her again.
“You’re sure this is the room number she gave?” Officer Williams barked to his lieutenant, “Where’s reinforcement?”
“On their way, Sir,” a nervous rookie piped up from the back of the hall, “They said five minutes.”
“We don’t have that much time,” Williams ordered, “Kevin, stay away. The rest, in place.”
“But Sir,” Kevin raised a finger, only to be shut up by a stern look.
“Kevin, go wait for reinforcements, outside.”
Officer Williams took the key from the anxious hotel manager, who had never in his life been called in the middle of the night for an ongoing police investigation. He really hoped it would never happen again, too.
“Sir, you can leave the premises now,” Williams waved, and the man scurried away.
“Let’s go,” Lieutenant Parker signaled, “Ready.”
“Thomas Miller, this is the police, surrender yourself!” Williams shouted as he opened the door.
“We’re too late,” Parker groaned as he saw the blood on the walls.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” The check-in operator discreetly signaled for a guard to step in, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“What seems to be the problem?” Mere seconds later, the guard was at Amy’s side, hovering over her.
“Mrs. Peterson does not have a valid boarding pass,” the middle-aged clerk pointed out, “It is not in her name.”
“Mister …” Amy paused and peered over her glasses at the name tag on the man’s uniform, “Mister Wilkins, I’m sure you can see that there is a simple misunderstanding here, unlike Mrs. Jansen.”
“Hmmm,” Peter Wilkins grumbled, not in the least pleased that he had to deal with a difficult case at the end of his shift, “And what may that be?”
“My phone autocorrected my name to ‘Pittsburg’,” Amy complained, “But all the rest of the information is right.”
“I’m sorry,” Peter shrugged, “You will have to leave.”
“I should have never used your phone app.” Amy pouted, and Peter Wilkins took pity of her.
“Listen, if there are any vacant seats, we’ll see about arranging your ticket,” he promised, and escorted her back to the waiting area.
***
“Is there still room on the plane?”
Amy’s ears perked up as she heard the woman’s voice, out of breath.
“Do you have a valid reservation?” The operator’s voice was neutral, she barely looked up from her desk.
“No, yes, um, I lost it,” the woman stammered, “I don’t think it went through.”
“Your name?” Unfazed, Whitney Jansen continued tapping away at her keyboard.
“Amy Pittsburgh,” the woman replied.
“This isn’t happening,” Amy Peterson groaned.
“Oh, it appears we did get your reservation,” Whitney chippered, “I’ll reprint your boarding pass.”
“What are the odds!” Amy Peterson inwardly screamed, “Curse you, mercury in retrograde.”
“The birth dates don’t correspond,” Mr. Wilkins pointed out as he was packing up his lunch box, “And we still have that Amy Peterson waiting.”
“It’s nearly 4,” Mrs. Jansen intently looked at the clock, “Have Harris deal with it.”
***
“Is the plane gone?” A young man, panting, suddenly surged in front of Amy, who jumped in her seat.
“Yes,” she hiccupped once she was past her initial surprise, “Yes, it’s gone. Five minutes ago.”
“Damn!” He cursed, falling down in the seat opposite hers. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” she smiled, “I have a few choice words for them too.”
“You missed it too?” His boyish charm suddenly made it a little better that she was stuck in an airport until the airline could find her a seat. Maybe this would be the start of some terrific love story and they’d later laugh and tell their children about serendipity.
“Hello?” With a shock, she awoke from her daydreaming.
“Um, no,” she sheepishly smiled, “There was a mix-up with my boarding pass.”
“Sucks,” he acknowledged, “What happened?”
“Autocorrect,” she sighed and he responded with an all-knowing nod, “Got my name wrong on the phone app.”
“But why didn’t they give you the empty seat then? Overbooked?” He started taking a few papers out of his briefcase, “By the way, my name is Thomas. Thomas Miller.”
“Nice to meet, Tho-“ Amy smiled, but it froze on her face as she was interrupted by a deafening noise, “What was that?!”
“An explosion,” Thomas scrambled towards her as they were covered in debris from the bay windows, “I think the plane exploded.”
Subconsciously, she grabbed his extended hand as the sirens started blaring, and they ran towards the flashing emergency exit lights.
***
“Holy crap,” Amy commented as they were watching footage of the explosion. The crash was on every television channel, as the news story was still unfolding.
“To think we were supposed to be in there,” Thomas shuddered, “I’ll never have been more glad to have overslept.”
“I’ll never curse autocorrect again,” Amy agreed, “We were damn lucky.”
“Preliminary reports show that it could have been a terrorist attack,” the journalist on TV spoke, her blonde hair blowing into her face as she looked very seriously into the camera, “The police cannot confirm that an unknown woman introduced herself on board of the plane with a false identity.” The screen showed a blurry photo of a woman, taken off the security cameras.
“That’s the woman who took my place!” Amy jumped up, “She didn’t have a pass or anything!”
“Shouldn’t you call the police?” Thomas suggested, “That might help their investigation.”
“Nah,” Amy shrugged, “I’m sure they got that information off check-in. Besides, they know where I am, I left the room number when I called to say I wasn’t on the plane.”
***
“Mrs. Peterson?” A loud banging on the door nearly woke the other guests in the hotel. “Mrs. Peterson, open the door, it’s the police!” The officer took a deep breath, before he tried to call her again.
“You’re sure this is the room number she gave?” Officer Williams barked to his lieutenant, “Where’s reinforcement?”
“On their way, Sir,” a nervous rookie piped up from the back of the hall, “They said five minutes.”
“We don’t have that much time,” Williams ordered, “Kevin, stay away. The rest, in place.”
“But Sir,” Kevin raised a finger, only to be shut up by a stern look.
“Kevin, go wait for reinforcements, outside.”
Officer Williams took the key from the anxious hotel manager, who had never in his life been called in the middle of the night for an ongoing police investigation. He really hoped it would never happen again, too.
“Sir, you can leave the premises now,” Williams waved, and the man scurried away.
“Let’s go,” Lieutenant Parker signaled, “Ready.”
“Thomas Miller, this is the police, surrender yourself!” Williams shouted as he opened the door.
“We’re too late,” Parker groaned as he saw the blood on the walls.