06-22-2017, 08:54 PM
I was thinking Airport security had gotten better and arriving 2 hours before my flight should have gotten me to the gate in plenty of time.
Not so much.
The line to check in for my flight to Munich and then to Rome was the longest check in line I have ever seen. And Lufthansa, was only checking in two flights. The line crawled forward as the clocked seemed to tick ahead at an amazing pace.
I finally got to the point where I could ask an agent if I was going to make my flight. And he said not to worry. I was only about ten minutes away from the counter at this point. I was also ten minutes from the point when they stopped allowing you on the plane.
I guess somebody at the gate noticed that a lot of people who were scheduled for their flight still weren't checked in . Suddenly, they opened up new check-in counters. The agents started asking who was on the Munich flight. I was pulled from the line and put in another line. It pissed me off that I was put in line behind people that were behind me in the original line.
This new line didn't seem to move with any sense of urgency either. They did a head check of who was on the Munich flight. I was the second to last of the people in line to go to Munich. Finally, I checked in and raced off to security.
Well, the security line people made the Lufthansa people look speedy and efficient. I was resolved to spending the night in the hotel at the airport. I had about ten minutes left to get through security in order to get to my plane. I told the TSA people walking around of my plight and got stoney silence in response.
We are doing the snake through those ribboned demarcated lines. What the TSA was doing was blocking off one giant feeder line until one of the smaller sections was freed up and they would feed the big line into the smaller section.
At one point, the people in the long line decided that the block ribbon lane divider in front of them must be a mistake so they removed it and started to feed into the line in front of me. Somebody started swearing. He sounded a lot like me.
They also closed a whole TSA section of screeners because they were going off shift. All the people waiting for those TSA screeners were suddenly put into my TSA section as well. The clock was ticking louder and louder.
Then they opened the closed TSA section back up. The people behind me in line were led to the now open section and where whisked into the gates area. Yes, I was losing my mind. But then I got a text message from Lufthansa announcing that my flight had been delayed 30 glorious minutes. Woo fucking hoo.
My TSA agent decided that he had to search my bag and rub down my laptop for gunpowder residue. That guy was in no hurry either as I watched my extra thirty minutes disappear, too.
As I was walking to the farthest gate in the terminal, I heard the message that this was the final call for my flight.
I was the last person in line to get on the plane. But the key was, I was on the plane.
The flight to Munich was long and uneventful. I caught up on movies. My row mate promptly went to sleep. The coolest feature about this flight was the downstairs areas for the bathrooms. They must have carved out some room in the cargo hold for them. But there were eight bathrooms down there.
At Munich, I had plenty of time between flights. Which is good because they changed my gate from one end of the terminal to the other. But no problem. I wracked my brain to see how much German I could remember from my High School days. The answer was not a lot.
While we waited at the new gate, I noticed storm clouds roll across the air field. Pretty soon, it was raining so hard, you couldn't see the planes on the Tarmac. This caused consternation for the powers that be and no fuel trucks were let to refuel the planes for an hour. So, we were an hour late taking off for Munich.
The Rome airport was quirky. They had a piano set up in baggage claim for any passengers to play if they so desired. As I walked by, one woman took them up on this service and began to play. I could tell she was a passenger, because her bags were stacked around her.
The luggage gods decided to ease my burden and my bags were delivered first. Since I had shown my passport in Germany, there was no passport control in Italy. I was out in seconds.
It's been a while since I had been to Rome and I forgotten what the Italians were like. As I walked to the Taxi rank, a man asked me if I was seeking a Taxi. I said yes. He grabbed my bag and we were on our way.
Well, he wasn't an official taxi driver. He worked for one of the airport car services who basically hijack passengers before they can get to the taxi rank. Only officially taxi services are allowed to park in the Taxi rank.
By the time I figured out the scam, I was already being given my ticket for the car service. I was also made to wait while other passengers were hijacked. On the one hand, the price I was quoted was cheaper than the fare the taxi drivers were required to charge. On the other, I was standing around the airport waiting. Decisions, decisions.
Before I became too grumpy, my fellow hijackees and I were taken out to the parking structure to get in our Mercedes van for our trip to Rome. We stopped one more time as the Car service had found one more group of suckers for the drive.
Eventually, I was deposited at the Ergife Palace hotel on the outskirts of Rome. There is nothing around me for quite some distance except for apartments and schools. I am not in a bustling tourist district. It will be a hike to get to anything worthwhile. Fortunately, there is a lot of worthwhile things to hike, too.
Not so much.
The line to check in for my flight to Munich and then to Rome was the longest check in line I have ever seen. And Lufthansa, was only checking in two flights. The line crawled forward as the clocked seemed to tick ahead at an amazing pace.
I finally got to the point where I could ask an agent if I was going to make my flight. And he said not to worry. I was only about ten minutes away from the counter at this point. I was also ten minutes from the point when they stopped allowing you on the plane.
I guess somebody at the gate noticed that a lot of people who were scheduled for their flight still weren't checked in . Suddenly, they opened up new check-in counters. The agents started asking who was on the Munich flight. I was pulled from the line and put in another line. It pissed me off that I was put in line behind people that were behind me in the original line.
This new line didn't seem to move with any sense of urgency either. They did a head check of who was on the Munich flight. I was the second to last of the people in line to go to Munich. Finally, I checked in and raced off to security.
Well, the security line people made the Lufthansa people look speedy and efficient. I was resolved to spending the night in the hotel at the airport. I had about ten minutes left to get through security in order to get to my plane. I told the TSA people walking around of my plight and got stoney silence in response.
We are doing the snake through those ribboned demarcated lines. What the TSA was doing was blocking off one giant feeder line until one of the smaller sections was freed up and they would feed the big line into the smaller section.
At one point, the people in the long line decided that the block ribbon lane divider in front of them must be a mistake so they removed it and started to feed into the line in front of me. Somebody started swearing. He sounded a lot like me.
They also closed a whole TSA section of screeners because they were going off shift. All the people waiting for those TSA screeners were suddenly put into my TSA section as well. The clock was ticking louder and louder.
Then they opened the closed TSA section back up. The people behind me in line were led to the now open section and where whisked into the gates area. Yes, I was losing my mind. But then I got a text message from Lufthansa announcing that my flight had been delayed 30 glorious minutes. Woo fucking hoo.
My TSA agent decided that he had to search my bag and rub down my laptop for gunpowder residue. That guy was in no hurry either as I watched my extra thirty minutes disappear, too.
As I was walking to the farthest gate in the terminal, I heard the message that this was the final call for my flight.
I was the last person in line to get on the plane. But the key was, I was on the plane.
The flight to Munich was long and uneventful. I caught up on movies. My row mate promptly went to sleep. The coolest feature about this flight was the downstairs areas for the bathrooms. They must have carved out some room in the cargo hold for them. But there were eight bathrooms down there.
At Munich, I had plenty of time between flights. Which is good because they changed my gate from one end of the terminal to the other. But no problem. I wracked my brain to see how much German I could remember from my High School days. The answer was not a lot.
While we waited at the new gate, I noticed storm clouds roll across the air field. Pretty soon, it was raining so hard, you couldn't see the planes on the Tarmac. This caused consternation for the powers that be and no fuel trucks were let to refuel the planes for an hour. So, we were an hour late taking off for Munich.
The Rome airport was quirky. They had a piano set up in baggage claim for any passengers to play if they so desired. As I walked by, one woman took them up on this service and began to play. I could tell she was a passenger, because her bags were stacked around her.
The luggage gods decided to ease my burden and my bags were delivered first. Since I had shown my passport in Germany, there was no passport control in Italy. I was out in seconds.
It's been a while since I had been to Rome and I forgotten what the Italians were like. As I walked to the Taxi rank, a man asked me if I was seeking a Taxi. I said yes. He grabbed my bag and we were on our way.
Well, he wasn't an official taxi driver. He worked for one of the airport car services who basically hijack passengers before they can get to the taxi rank. Only officially taxi services are allowed to park in the Taxi rank.
By the time I figured out the scam, I was already being given my ticket for the car service. I was also made to wait while other passengers were hijacked. On the one hand, the price I was quoted was cheaper than the fare the taxi drivers were required to charge. On the other, I was standing around the airport waiting. Decisions, decisions.
Before I became too grumpy, my fellow hijackees and I were taken out to the parking structure to get in our Mercedes van for our trip to Rome. We stopped one more time as the Car service had found one more group of suckers for the drive.
Eventually, I was deposited at the Ergife Palace hotel on the outskirts of Rome. There is nothing around me for quite some distance except for apartments and schools. I am not in a bustling tourist district. It will be a hike to get to anything worthwhile. Fortunately, there is a lot of worthwhile things to hike, too.
As a matter of fact, my anger does keep me warm