Long story: I'm well-known for my penchant for getting to the airport long before it's necessary. It's not unusual that I arrive before they actually start checking people in for the flight. Back when Southwest issued numbered cards I had the first one more times than I can count, and was always one of the first ten. It just don't like feeling rushed, or stressed out that I might miss the flight. When I travel with my boss or my mother, typically the last people on the plane (not the same plane, you understand) I end up in a state of near-hyperventilation.
On my way to Sydney from Honolulu, I arrived so early that I spent several hours wandered the airport at night, after most of the shops and restaurants were closed. However, when I left Sydney for Honolulu, it took a total of 20 minutes to check my bags in and get to the gate, thanks to the combined efficiency of the Sydney airport and (gasp) Air Canada. I was determined not to spend the entire afternoon wandering around another airport.
Unfortunately, since I was in Honolulu for only one day, and didn't turn on the tv or pick up the newspaper, I apparently missed the fact that the airport was in total chaos. The only thing I've seen close to this kind of airport mayhem when I was in Heathrow two days before the Hajj. I did call the airline that morning to ask about baggage restrictions and no mention was made about how far in advance I should arrive. Apparently the chaos arose from the fact that people have to wait in FOUR separate lines. So, the lines. First, you start out in the agriculture check line, where they look through your bags to make sure you don't have plants or animals that shouldn't leave Hawaii. This line is about an hour long because a) it is run by the federal government, and we all know how efficient that is; and b) for some reason many people leaving Hawaii seem to think that it's a good idea to bring a lot of food with them. I'm talking about boxes of fruit, ice chests with fresh fish, pretty much whatever you can imagine. Now, I'm a fan of the fresh food here, but I wouldn't take a bunch of fish, slap it in an ice chest with some ice and wrap it up with duct tape. I saw this done several times, with some very difficult situations involving how to dispose of the several pounds of fish that were not going to be allowed to leave the state.
The second line is to check into your flight. That line looked long but I wouldn't really know because I got about halfway through the agriculture line and realized I was going to miss my flight. The third line is where you take your bags after you've checked in, because you can't hand them across the counter like you can in every other g*dd*mn airport in the developed world, you have to take them over to a separate baggage area. Where there is another line. Then, after all this, you get in the line to go through the security check of you and the belongings you would propose to take on the plane. With more confiscation of fresh fruits and other plants and animal life.
So I get in the "special services" line to change my flight and when there are only two people in front of me, the woman working at the counter leaves. And no one else comes over. Some enterprising soul found out that she was on her mandatory lunch hour and no one else was authorized to work that line. The line is snaking through the airport because at this point many people have missed their planes. We begged for some kind of supervisor or manager to come out and tell us how to arrange to get on another flight, but every person in a position or authority refused to come out and deal with the customers. You know, the ones who pay their salary. The people in lien were unhappy, but optimistic that they would be able to get on a place that day. When the line shut down, and no one else could help us, things started to fall apart.
The girl in front of me sat down on the ground and began to sob. "I have nowhere to go." she kept saying. The guy behind me was supposed to be in Seattle at 8am the next morning to sign a contract to join a minor-league sports team. I didn't ask which team, or even which sport. No one was really in the mood to chit chat. A guy behind us in line had a total meltdown and started running after anyone in a Hawaiian Airlines shirt, screaming profanity at them. Another woman who missed the flight to San Jose had called the airline on the phone, since no one was at the counter any more. She eventually found out, as I did, that despite the fact that we arrived at the airport in what should have been plenty of time, we would not be "bumped" to the next flight, but would have to pay to change out flights to the next one. I ended up having to book a first class one-way upgrade to leave on Friday. If I had waited for the next available seat in economy, I would have been here until Thursday. Another family from the San Jose flight, a couple and their two young children, were going to have to wait for that flight. His wife told me they had already called the hotel where they had stayed but it was sold out. "I don't know where we're going to stay." she said. "I'm more worried about what I'm going to tell my boss." her husband replied.
Oh, that's right. I have a job. I had been so determined to find a flight I forgot I still had to call my boss and tell him I'd be out another two days, on top of the three weeks I'd already been gone. I recalled giving advice in similar situations before, usually it involved sending a very unsympathetic letter telling the employee to be back at work on X date or they would lose their job. Karma's a real bitch. When I did call him, I think he could hear the tension in my voice because he was actually pretty cool about it. I got him a "thanks for not making this worse" gift this morning.
I wish I could say I was using this time to hang out with J, but he's still on the mainland, so it's more of me wandering around Waikiki alone. I did get my marine geek on at the Aquarium this morning.
There are worse places to be trapped. And there are worse things that can happen to a person than this kind of airport drama. I could be in Sierra Leone. Or Ithaca. But it's been a long trip, and after three weeks, I really just want to go home.
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