“Your name is not on the Manifest.”
Boston, MA: So I have a habit of knowing whenish my flights are leaving. I do this to trick myself into having extra time at the airport by rounding to the earlier half hour usually. If I depart at 9:15 I go with 9:00. That way I won’t have to hustle too much with extra luggage. After purchasing my flight, I usually don’t look at my flight info until I’m driving to airport. This way I can really trick myself into thinking it’s a certain time. When I went to check my departure time on the drive to Logan this morning my phone wouldn’t download the attachment, but I was pretty sure it left at 11:00 AM. Upon arrival at Logan, I jumped onto the Free Logan wireless to confirm my 11:00 AM flight before my dad left me at the terminal. I was indeed correct.
It was 9:20 AM and I always try to fly on United because of their extra baggage policy so we were in Terminal C. I got up to the Gold Desk and told the nice fellow I was on the 11:00 AM flight to LA. He told me otherwise with a nice demeanor, “Your name is not on the flight manifest.” I pulled out my computer to show him my confirmation number and quickly learned I was on Virgin, not United. Crap. I booked my flight on the Air New Zealand website for a number of reasons, mostly it was cheapest. And was nearly certain I was on United as they are both Star Alliance partners. Apparently, they now have a deal with Virgin. My immediate thought was, “That sucks, but no big deal I have some extra time.” The really nice, helpful United agent explained, “Virgin is in terminal E. It’s a long walk with all you stuff so take the Terminal Bus down stairs.” I was pretty bummed about my oversight and decided the most efficient way would be to walk outside into the departures area and grab a cab that just dropped someone off for the short ride. There were a ton of cabs dropping people off at Terminal C today, no big deal. My dad was happily on his way north so I certainly wasn’t going to bother him with my mistake.
Douchebags fit pretty perfectly in this cab…
At 9:33 AM, I got over to Terminal E, the International Terminal, which seemed a little suspect since I was just flying to LA. Not to mention, there was little action. But I grabbed my stuff and rolled it inside. All my bags are roller bags except for my boot bag so it wasn’t too painful. I do it in shifts with two bags at a time never letting any of them out of my sight so I don’t have to pay the $4.00 for a cart. There were just as few people inside as out, but I thought that’s just because most international flights leave in the evening. But then, I couldn’t find any Virgin kiosks. Not good. I hustled over to information desk to find out where I should go. This guy asked the right question, “Are you on Virgin America?” I immediately knew I was screwed again. I checked and he was indeed correct. I was flying on Virgin America not Virgin Atlantic. There is a difference. He told me I needed to be in Terminal B. Crap. He – just like the “really nice, helpful” United agent – told me I should take all my stuff down some stairs, outside, and across a bunch of lanes to wait for the Terminal Bus. Knowing that was something I definitely didn’t want to do, once again I dragged (it felt more like dragging than rolling now) all my stuff back outside, flag down the only cab that was dropping someone off and once again repack up my skis and bags into a cab. We were off to Terminal B. This time I was very active making sure that Terminal B was indubitably the home of Virgin America. As I was dropped off at the curb, it was a painful realization that it was the third time I’d done this today and Logan Airport only has 4 Terminals = proper sucking.
It’s was now 9:42 AM and I was in the right place – with quite a bit of time to spare I might add. Luckily, I’m not traveling with too much luggage as I’m getting the new 35 meter Head skis in New Zealand so I’m only flying down with one pair of skis. However, my Douchebag ski bag is filled with two extra pairs of bindings, vices, wax, among other things and my duffel with my TriOne tuning machine and equipment are definitely over the 50 lbs weight limit. My boot bag with just Dodge carbon boots was super light so I had that going for me…
It was time to pick an agent. When you’re totally in the wrong it’s really important to find a good one. I spent a few seconds looking them over to see who might be the most pleasant/lenient agent. I picked Ryan who definitely turned out to be far more helpful than my United guy. Based on how my ticket was booked, I got one free bag. When Ryan was clicking away on his computer I check to see my bag weighed 57 lbs. So I thought, what can I put under there. The Virgin America scales are really low on the floor so I slipped off my Todi shoes and propped both of them under my duffel bag and it registered at 46 lbs on the scale, perfect. When Stephen looked a few minutes later he didn’t notice, brilliant. OK now it was time to deal with my boot bag/ski bag combination. They were pretty entertained that my ski bag says Douchebag all over it, which totally helped calm the mood and bring out some good laughter. After a few phone calls with Air New Zealand and Ryan’s leniency, I ended up paying 35 bucks to get those two on the plane and check thru to New Zealand, victory. However, all the phone calls and what not took a really long time so now it was 10:15 AM and Ryan couldn’t give me a seat. My boarding pass said “standby” on it… not awesome. Before I left the desk, Stephan called his buddy at the gate Demko to make sure he kept a seat for me. I hustled to gate B38 and arrived during general boarding to a long line at the gate. I found Demko, got an exit row aisle seat, and was finally able to take a deep breath. I was definitely not a professional traveler today.
This girl is in seat 1A. She’s like, “Yeah… this is what winning looks like. First Class seats are just OK.” She must be up there just for the baby food.
Either way, New Zealand here I come! If you haven’t flown on Virgin, it’s really nice as I’m on the Internet, writing this blog, and just watched live Olympic Volleyball of America vs. Brazil. Great victory ladies!
Moral to the story… I should probably look at my itinerary the night before, but then this blog would be a whole lot more boring.