Fuck you, Delta and small-minded Mormons!
Who knew that going back to Cali could be so rough?
After a full day of running around frantically at work, the likes of which I haven't seen since I started there, I finally did the mad dash to the airport to board the first of two flights back to California: Philly to Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City to Oakland.
And, because no flight of mine has or is ever going to leave Philly on time, we were an hour delayed on the tarmac. I literally looked out the window and counted 20 or so planes, strewn out across various runways, nobody moving, for no visible reason, like weather or something. It's always something different, but the end result is the same.
I should note my plane was full of Mormons who apparently didn't really like too much the fact that I was reading my "Who Speaks for Islam" book in the lounge and on the plane. At least I think they were Mormons. They were in large groups, carrying the Book of Mormon, all sitting by me, and we were going to Utah. I deduce. But, even the stewardess clicked her teeth at me when she saw the cover of my book. Look, I wasn't trying to make some sort of statement. I have a paper due Wednesday for fuck's sake and, furthermore, I don't openly gape and roll my eyes when I see someone reading those Left Behind books, and I find those in pretty bad taste. Lordy, if it's that bad for someone, who doesn't appear to be Muslim in any way, READING a book about contemporary Islam, with a fairly benign title, it must completely be suck for for actual Muslims to get around in the states.
But I digress.
By the time I landed in SLC, I had 10 minutes to cross 2 terminals and make my departing connection. Which I did, but my luggage did not. Of course. It's not like, you know, I have friends to meet with all day Saturday or, you know, a 20th year high school reunion to go to or anything. You know, people I haven't seen in 20 years, I don't mind wearing dirty underwear and day old sweaty clothes and not brushing my teeth. Additional kudos to me, too, for wearing baggy unflattering clothes to travel in, so as not to mess up the "actual" outfits I brought. I'm going to look like a disheveled homeless person all day.
So, yeah, I was a *little* upset at the baggage counter to hear that my bag was "probably" going to come in on a flight from SLC between 8-12 hours later and that, yes, the delivery time to get my bag to me in RWC was going to be between 4-12 hours. Soooo not long enough to go out and buy clothes and makeup and crap but too long to actually feasibly meet and socialize with people AND have any self esteem while doing so. FanTASTIC. But, honestly, what really made me go postal (internally, of course) was the fact that Delta WILL NOT refund my stupid $15 per bag fee. I'm like, but you didn't actually get me my bag in any expected timeframe. And the woman was all, well, you pay to transport the bag, not to actually transport the bag WITH YOU. Ummmmmm, really? What is this, the fucking Old West of Deadwood? I have to pay additional bribe money to make sure the stagecoach doesn't get ripped off by the driver's cousins??? And what do I have to do to get the option, where my bag travels WITH ME?
You know what, fuck you Delta. $15 can go surprisingly far in calming a hysterical woman who's just been told that she may not have any clothing or make-up with which to attend her 20th high school reunion. I bet I would have gotten that $15 back if I had flashed that book on Islam.
In more positive news, it turns out that Utah is really fucking beautiful. Like, who knew? Salt Lake City looks like reclaimed saltswamp land, with a gigantic shiny temple. But the 20 miles or so outside of that make the phrase "red rock canyons" seem woefully complacent. I was moved by the sight of the landscape.
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p.s. Delta's on-line "complaint forms" are not accepting complaints this morning. Why do I feel like it's a miracle their planes stay up in the air?