Pittston Dispatch // PD Columnists // Haley Taffera - Haley's Comment

Sunday May 24, 2009 | 01:00 AM

Who wasn’t crossing their fingers?! Someone out there who read my previous article and/or who spoke with and knows me directly wasn’t crossing their fingers for me prior to my great escape to California. And, as a result of being less than a team player, I missed my flight!

Yeah, very funny. I found it simply hilarious, let me tell you.

Allow me to backup and tell you the story…

So, bright and early on Wednesday, May 13, I awoke surprised, disgusted, and overly excited for my West Coast adventure. Surprised because I do believe I was deeply asleep and in the middle of a dream when my alarm clock brought me back to reality; disgusted because I am not even close to being a morning person, especially when early in the morning means 4:30 a.m.; and, overly excited because, hello! I was embarking on my first business trip, a trip destined for the golden sunshine of California.

I hurried through a shower, dressing, doing my hair, and throwing a few last minute things in my suitcase. I drove over to my mother’s house, crammed whatever food I could find into my mouth so as to have some sort of nutrition in my system, and she proceeded to drive me to the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton airport so I wouldn’t have to pay an outrageous amount of money for parking.

We arrived an impressive hour and eight minutes prior to the flight departure time listed on my itinerary. Take THAT, bad karma flight-gods! I was determined to have this trip go off without a hitch and, so far, so good.

It was exactly 6:02 a.m. when I stepped up to the counter to check in with Continental Airlines. But, no one was there.

There was, however, a great amount of flight staff gathered around the American Airlines counter that I may or not may have directed evil glares of impatience at.

I suppose then that I can kind of, sort of, maybe understand why that form of communication did not excite them to come running over to service me. It was precisely 6:12 a.m. when I could no longer stand it and I approached one of the said flight staff to inquire about being helped.

The first indicator that this trip was not, in fact, going to go off without a hitch should have hit me then, when said flight staff member turned to me and said, “I’m sorry, Miss, but we aren’t able to help with Continental flights. A member from Continental should be out shortly to help you, just as soon as they are done helping to board the flight about to take off.”

Yet, me being me, I simply shrugged it off and thought nothing of it.

Instead, I decided that I would look around for my colleague who was scheduled to fly out with me. Nothing about his tardiness piqued my interest. Ok, so he was a little late, but he definitely had plenty of time to get to the airport and check in as our flight wasn’t scheduled to depart until 7:10. At 6:32 a.m., when he still hadn’t shown up, I should have taken it as indicator number two of impending doom.

As fate would have it, it was at this time, 6:32 a.m., when a member of the Continental Airlines flight staff appeared. I smiled at her happily and eagerly shoved my driver’s license and flight itinerary into her hands.

I was feeling impatient and was overly anxious to be safely seated on the plane as I didn’t want to relive my past missed-flight experience. It was only after taking in her furrowed brow and perplexed expression that indicator three slapped me across the face and welcomed me into a state of panic.

“Well, you missed your flight,” she said. She was so matter of fact, so nonchalant.

I giggled a nervous a giggle of confusion and horror. “That’s impossible. My flight isn’t scheduled to leave until 7:10. It’s only a little after 6:30. See? Look at the itinerary. It says 7:10 a.m. I have plenty of time.”

“No, I see that,” she said, reading over my itinerary. “But you missed it, because the flight was actually scheduled to leave at 6:10 a.m. The time on this sheet is incorrect.”

According to Ms. Know-It-All Flight Staffer, I apparently never received the email update telling me that my flight time was bumped up by an hour. My colleague did, but not me. He got on the plane and was already mid-flight to California.

“Ah, there you are,” said a suddenly appearing flight attendant. “We waited for you as long as we could, you know. Your colleague was a bit worried, but the plane had to take off and we concluded that your plans must have changed.”

Isn’t that just grand! YES, HERE I AM. And NO, you concluded WRONG!

MY plans didn’t change at all.

YOUR plans, oh faithful Continental Airlines, changed and I WAS NOT MADE AWARE!

And that’s when I had what is typically called a conniption.

So, I’ll ask again. Who wasn’t crossing their fingers?!

During my conniption, I called my boss and, through clenched teeth, told him my debacle. He laughed at me, much like I am sure you are right now while reading this.

I still don’t find it funny. Not in the least bit. Not at all.

I actually am beginning to believe that some force or being greater than me is playing a cruel practical joke on me. Fate is screwing with me, people!

I ended up taking a much later flight and getting to California in one piece except for a few rough moments of motion sickness due to a whole lot of turbulence. But, it seems everyone traveling to our event in Cali ironically enough had a hell of a time traveling in. There was another missed flight, a flat tire, and a few stomach illnesses thrown in for good measure.

All in all, nonetheless, the trip was a success and I had a great time and met a lot of amazing people, all of which who had their original noses as well.

I made the snap decision when preparing to travel home that I would be the monkey on my colleague’s back.

He wasn’t going to shake me even once inch, seeing as how he had the correct itinerary and I was bound and determined to catch all of my flights and get home.

So, here I am, back in Pennsylvania, cursing at my luck. I am not meant to fly so it seems.

Travel by land and by sea is just fine. Flying, however, not so much.

I should just give it up, much like chocolate and Saved by the Bell reruns, but then what would I have to complain to you all about?

CROSS YOUR FINGERS NEXT TIME!