Leaving Lubbock, I had basically two options to get home. Take three Continental flights, starting at 5:25 AM, or walk. My luck with the airlines lately consists of then thoughtfully canceling flights or saving money by not performing any maintenance until parts start falling off their airplanes. It has been shit, to say the least. I would say that in the past two months, which includes an average of four flights a week, there has been at least one plane with a “maintenance issue” per trip. (And to think people actually asked why I rode 3321 miles to Little Rock…) I knew that trusting Continental to have THREE planes in top operating shape was a mistake.

A third option, enrolling at Texas Tech and just staying in Lubbock, actually crossed my mind.

Arriving at 4:15 AM, rubbing two hours of sleep from my eyes, I wearily checked in. Surprisingly, the first flight left on time. In fact, we arrived in Houston ten minutes early! Could this be the day my travel luck turned around?

Of course not.

After eating an overpriced and tasteless breakfast, I wasted the rest of the two hours fantasizing about building a teleporting device. Suddenly, my stomach gave an unhappy rumble. Uh oh.

The gate agent was making an announcement, sounding like she was talking to a bunch of “slow” third graders. She was trying to explain how she wanted everyone to line up, first class on the RIGHT, unimportant passengers on the LEFT, helpfully pointing to each line for us idiots.

(At the gate, there is one door to the plane, with two lanes formed by velvet ropes. The left lane has a shockingly blue carpet that says ELITE ACCESS, the right lane has no frills at all. You give your ticket to the same agent no matter what line you are in, which made me wonder why the hell they bother at all.)

This woman reminded me of Mrs. Zeigler, my third grade librarian who would make me feel like I was doomed to fail in life because I forgot my library book once again.

Not wanting to have an incident this early in the day, we followed her commands. I dutifully stood in the correct line, but briefly thought what fun it would be to fake left and go right. HA HA! Tricked you, lady! I figured she would cancel my seat and have me shot, so I didn’t actually do it. Cowering from this insane gate agent, I handed her my ticket at arms length. Like cows to the slaughter we were herded onto the jetway. Where we waited. And waited some more. This couldn’t be good. Nobody moved, nobody got in the plane. I guessed it five minutes before they announced it. MAINTENANCE ISSUE! Great.

Now what should we do? Here we all were in the jetway, already checked in, surely is it a federal offense to walk back out to the airport. Would that crazed agent crack us on the knuckles for not taking our seats? Maybe have us all arrested? I bravely let other people find out, and followed the gaggle back to the gate.

Was she sorry for letting us try to board a broken plane? Was she sorry for being such a bitch? No. She announced in the most insincere voice yet, “Sorry, We didn’t know there was a maintenance issue. It’s going to take a long time to fix, and there is nothing we can do about it, so don’t ask us anything. Fuck you and thanks for trying to fly Continental.”

I couldn’t help but realize that idiots like her are exactly the reason that airlines are going belly up like beached whales. Delta Airlines, which managed to (supposedly) lose TEN BILLION DOLLARS since September 11^th, 2001 finally filed for Chapter 11 protection last week. How in the world do you manage to lose such an inconceivable amount of money and not get strung up from the rafters? Do they fuel the planes with hundred dollar bills?

Continental can’t go under soon enough for me!

As I sat listening to Ms. Library Bitch berate passengers for being dumb as lint, my stomach started to gurgle audibly and alarmingly. Suddenly, two maintenance workers walked up the jetway with rolls of duct tape in hand, laughing as they left. Library Bitch kicked the announcements into overdrive. This is an actual quote, directed at the passengers that were milling around waiting to get back on the plane and the fuck away from her, “PEOPLE?? WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM HERE?!? First class goes to the RIGHT, like I have said BEFORE, WHAT DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND ABOUT THIS?!?”

Happily, I exacted some revenge on her as I re-boarded the plane. All I will say is I endured my worsening stomach cramps until my turn came. When I handed her my ticket, I did my best skunk impression, instantly relieving the cramps, and possibly causing this evil woman lasting nerve damage with the potency of my emissions.

Well, at least I got my luggage this time…!!