I will never fly United Airlines again. During the Dark Period of No Posting, February 20 - May 18, the University of Minnesota went on Spring Break. For me, this meant some extensive travel time as I like to go party it up on the west coast during extended breaks. Here is a look at the journal I kept on my travels:
NOTE: All times are listed in their native time zones. When I am in Minneapolis, it is Central Time, when in Denver it is Mountain Time, and in Oakland it is Pacific Time.
Friday, March 14:
11:00 PM: WHOOO!!!!!!!!! SPRING BREAK!!!!!!!!!!! Let's do another shot to me!!!
Saturday, March 15:
3:30 AM: Ugh, I think it's about time I pass out...
5:30 AM: Fucking piece of shit alarm. Mrraaahhhhhhh, why does my flight have to be so early? On the plus side, I'm still drunk. Well, time to hop on the bus and get to the airport.
8:00 AM: I am on the plane to Denver. It's time to get some much needed sleep.
9:30 AM: I have just arrived in Denver. I am feeling significantly worse than I did when I woke up. I am no longer drunk. I am hung over. God, I just want to be in Oakland already.
11:30 AM: I should be taking off for Oakland right now. Instead, I am sitting waiting for the plane to arrive. They say we will be delayed a half-hour. This is a minor inconvenience.
12:00 PM: Okay. I am on the plane. However, we are still not taking off. Why? Because the pilot says one of the wings is leaking fuel. I guess I'd rather wait another half-hour for them to get it fixed than to die in a huge ball of flame. I am going to sleep.
12:30 PM: The pilot has just informed all of us passengers that the plane is not fixed as promised, but instead that they have simply concocted a hypothesis as to what is causing the leak. They say it is probably a failed o-ring, and that it will be another half-hour until it is fixed. I am growing annoyed. In better news, I just got a call from my sister and learned that I will be celebrating St. Patrick's Day, the most wonderful of all holidays, with her and some other people in the city (San Francisco, in case you didn't know what "the city" is).
1:00 PM: That son of a bitch pilot just told us that it was not a failed o-ring causing the leak, but instead some part which he claims is like a dip-stick. At least that's what I think he said. You've got to have a damn translater to understand anything they say over the PA system. Fucking technology. In any case, it'll take them a half-hour to get a replacement part out to the plane. I'm not sure why it takes a half-hour to bring a fucking part out to the plane. I guess they keep the parts in Boulder or something. Arrrggh.
1:30 PM: Well, the geniuses at United have set a new record for incompetence. The idiot in charge has announced that the crew brought the wrong part to the plane, and that it will be another half-hour to get the right one. What the fuck?
2:00 PM: Well, those monkeys in uniform have managed to find the right part, but it will still take them a while to put it in. The estimated time is a half-hour. I don't believe them.
2:30 PM: The pilot has just come on the overhead to announce, and I am not joking, that he has nothing to announce. I think the bastard is just taunting us now.
3:00 PM: I guess that the high school educated morons trying to fix the plane have given up, because the "captain" has told us that instead of fixing this plane, we are just going to switch planes. We have to get out and go to Gate 55, which is supposedly far away so that we can stretch our legs. He tried to play it off as a joke. I didn't laugh. This is bullshit.
3:30 PM: I am outside the new gate, and the boarding process has begun. We should be leaving shortly. It's about fucking time.
6:00 PM: I have (finally!) arrived in Oakland. The only problem is that I have gotten here 4 and a half hours later than I should have. And I just found out that my sister and them have already left for the city without me. Isn't that just great. What a horrible day today was.
Estimated time of travel: 5 hours, 23 minutes
Actual time of travel: 11 hours
It was a terrible trip. Or at least I thought it was until my trip back to Minneapolis. Tune in next time for that lovely story. Pat is crazy.
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