Hellooooooo readers!!!! It feels so good to blog again!
Apologies for my absence--it hasn't been for lack of fodder. This Memorial Day weekend Jewboo and I made great strides in our interracial love affair. We embarked on air travel to Minneapolis to attend a friend's wedding, and dealt with the shitshow that is American Airlines--and even ran into my high-school history teacher at the gate!
[Mr. Werth was my very first gay, and even though he wasn't out to me, there was something about his skinny jeans and ageless face that, even at the age of 14, told me that his date with "Leslie" was Queer As Folk.]
Through the high-school reunions, plane delays, and engaged upwardly mobile couples, Jewboo and I didn't fight with each other AND we looked really cute in photographs. Success!!!
But let me be real with you, readers--after all, this is the diary of a mad blacktress--it wasn't all roses and hotel sex. Both our outbound and return flights were canceled and moved to 6am the following day, resulting in a lot of sleeplessness and hunger. After my heinous experience with Delta Burke Airlines a few years ago, my attitude toward air travel has changed--I know people got jobs to do, but if you're going to insist on stripping me of my shoes, liquids, and dignity, can you at least have a plane take off a tiempo?
I could go into detail, but I'm only finally getting my sanity back.
Instead, I will copy and paste the tweets I sent to help me get through the frustration:
May 26:
@hiyellanegress They wont let us get to Minneapolis. Going back to Harlem to catch a 6am tomorrow. #weddingseason
May 27
Back at laguardia airport. Trying to get to minneapolis. This is cuckoo bananas. #weddingseason #fatigue
May 29 [My rage really picked up here, as we were so ready to go home--I took to directly tweeting the airline in hopes of getting some acknowledgement]
Sick of reaching your destination on time and with few complications? Then fly @AmericanAir!
After all, nothing makes more sense than having the crew for a delayed flight scheduled to work on the next flight! @AmericanAir
@AmericanAir, quick Q: with chicago's bad weather, why would you hinge other flights on chi crews? do you not want people to like you?
[I was just being a bitchy brat at this point, but sometimes you gotta go a little Miley Cyrus on an airline.]
The wedding was quite loverly, though. It's always nice to see well-to-do Caucasians coming together to create more of themselves. [Seeing as the bride-now-wifey is an avid diary reader, I hope none of this comes as a shock.] But there was one moment when I felt a bit out of place-- isn't it always weird when you find out that you're someone's only black friend?
We've all heard jokes about having "the black friend," but in this case, it was the real deal. There was one older black couple, but the guy was her former boss. Of course, if Friends and Candace Bushnell taught us anything, it's that a lot of white people don't get down with the brown and it's not anything personal. But it was still odd to enter a room full of people celebrating a friend I attended diversity university with and see that maybe diversity is just a thing you try once in college.
But let me not hate over my own insecurities about feeling bigger and blacker than the rest--I mean, I've been in the heart of Caucasia, and Minnesota was a piece of cake after Middle Earth. Besides, I can't really blame the girl for keeping Sojourner in her corner. A blacktress is more than just your token black friend--I'm like a cross-over Moesha-style sensation! So, you know, if you're going to go black, you may as well go blacktress.
For the reading I chose a poem by James Kavanaugh that I thought would speak to an independent woman such as the bride--"To Love Is Not to Possess" (it immediately jumped out at me as a freed slave, natch.) I practiced a bit beforehand, but lately I've been really trying to take a page out of Avril's book and not make things so complicated. The reading wasn't about me--it was about setting a tone and supporting a union. With that in mind, I decided to leave my flowing Maya Angelou robes at home and tone it down with the enunciation. (I did, however, make sure to direct the lines "to love is not to own / or imprison" at the groom.)
But oh, how I would have loved to deliver it something like this:
Chocolate News
People kept coming up to me and complimenting me on the reading, though. I was surprised, seeing as I hadn't done all that much in my opinion. Jewboo had to remind me that they weren't aware that they were dealing with a professional, and my innate ability to work a mic and breathe life into love poems isn't a gift we're all lucky enough to possess. But once one of the uncles started going on and on about how "articulate" I was, and an aunt told me I was "well-spoken," even Jewboo had to admit it was a little racial America up in the twin cities. #notyouraveragenegress
Showing posts with label American Airlines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label American Airlines. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Friday, April 24, 2009
Dear American Airlines: Save the Drama for Obama
It's 2:17am. I write to you now from the Best Western Airport Hotel and Casino.
American Airlines can S a D. It is now, along with Delta, on my shit list.
In the last 6 weeks I have been on 8 planes, in 12 airports, and not once had a layover or delay...until now. And it's been more hardcore than I could have imagined.
I think you all know I have bad luck with flying. And while I always brace myself for some drama and foolishness, my recent rash of good luck on international journeys had me hopeful. Besides, my desire to get to the islands was so great, I figured I could will the airline into functioning normally.
Apparently, not.
It started off smoothly, although the Metrocard machine ate the $5 I inserted for my AirTrain ticket. I shook it off, trying to maintain the relaxed vibe I'd cultivated in my time down under. A seemingly long line at security actually moved quite quickly, and my 3-oz. bottles of lotion and shampoo were FDA approved. I only had an hour before my flight, so I did what any normal person does when they have time to kill: read 'Twilight' at the newsstand. Everything seemed aces until 4:35--the boarding time--rolled around.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there seems to be a problem with the fuel pump, and maintenance is checking now. We don't know how long it'll be, but we should find out shortly. Boarding will not take place now."
Ruh-roh.
When they don't know what's up or how long it'll take to handle a scandal, it's never a good sign. 20 minutes later, chick explains that there will be an hour delay, making it impossible for me to make my connecting flight.
How will I get my groove back now???? I thought as I waited on line to talk to the attendant. Just then, another voice came over the PA, telling us a new plane would be needed, and we wouldn't be leaving until 9:15.
Current time: 6:05.
Awesome.
We finally get going at 10pm, and upon landing, a flight attendant informs us that there is a problem getting the door to the aircraft open, and asked for our patience. A chorus of moans ensued, and I had visions of the weird guy across from me staring at me with glowing red eyes before mauling me with his bare hands.
Airlines are so fucking annoying. You pay them alot of money. They make you show up ridiculously early and tell you it's for your own good. This you do after packing a bag so strategically that you'd have to be part terrorist to make it work. Then they make you wait on crazy lines and treat you like an unwanted third-marriage step-child by people who don't like their jobs, and then force you to take off items of clothing as they judge your sketch factor. If you make it through all this, it is their job to provide an aircraft and take you to a destination at a time that they've set, no less. But time after time, they disappoint and screw it up, providing lame excuses and no remorse.
Reminds me of every relationship I've ever had.
So now it's almost 2:30 am and I have 6 hours until my 40-minute flight to St. Croix. I'm going to take a quick shower and get some quick zzz's and hope there are no bedbugs. I will step off the plane bleary-eyed and confused, and demand a mojito. After a couple of those, this American Airlines debacle will be a distant memory.
Until then, I rant.
American Airlines can S a D. It is now, along with Delta, on my shit list.
In the last 6 weeks I have been on 8 planes, in 12 airports, and not once had a layover or delay...until now. And it's been more hardcore than I could have imagined.
I think you all know I have bad luck with flying. And while I always brace myself for some drama and foolishness, my recent rash of good luck on international journeys had me hopeful. Besides, my desire to get to the islands was so great, I figured I could will the airline into functioning normally.
Apparently, not.
It started off smoothly, although the Metrocard machine ate the $5 I inserted for my AirTrain ticket. I shook it off, trying to maintain the relaxed vibe I'd cultivated in my time down under. A seemingly long line at security actually moved quite quickly, and my 3-oz. bottles of lotion and shampoo were FDA approved. I only had an hour before my flight, so I did what any normal person does when they have time to kill: read 'Twilight' at the newsstand. Everything seemed aces until 4:35--the boarding time--rolled around.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there seems to be a problem with the fuel pump, and maintenance is checking now. We don't know how long it'll be, but we should find out shortly. Boarding will not take place now."
Ruh-roh.
When they don't know what's up or how long it'll take to handle a scandal, it's never a good sign. 20 minutes later, chick explains that there will be an hour delay, making it impossible for me to make my connecting flight.
How will I get my groove back now???? I thought as I waited on line to talk to the attendant. Just then, another voice came over the PA, telling us a new plane would be needed, and we wouldn't be leaving until 9:15.
Current time: 6:05.
Awesome.
We finally get going at 10pm, and upon landing, a flight attendant informs us that there is a problem getting the door to the aircraft open, and asked for our patience. A chorus of moans ensued, and I had visions of the weird guy across from me staring at me with glowing red eyes before mauling me with his bare hands.
Airlines are so fucking annoying. You pay them alot of money. They make you show up ridiculously early and tell you it's for your own good. This you do after packing a bag so strategically that you'd have to be part terrorist to make it work. Then they make you wait on crazy lines and treat you like an unwanted third-marriage step-child by people who don't like their jobs, and then force you to take off items of clothing as they judge your sketch factor. If you make it through all this, it is their job to provide an aircraft and take you to a destination at a time that they've set, no less. But time after time, they disappoint and screw it up, providing lame excuses and no remorse.
Reminds me of every relationship I've ever had.
So now it's almost 2:30 am and I have 6 hours until my 40-minute flight to St. Croix. I'm going to take a quick shower and get some quick zzz's and hope there are no bedbugs. I will step off the plane bleary-eyed and confused, and demand a mojito. After a couple of those, this American Airlines debacle will be a distant memory.
Until then, I rant.
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