15 December 2009
I arrived at Portland airport a little while ago. As expected it's grey and rainy, not like the beautiful blue sky of Boston that I left this morning. I'm feeling disgruntled still even though it's been almost twenty four hours since I realized that American Airlines could have booked my flight all the way to my final destination of Medford at no extra cost.
I'd been disgruntled since last night when I'd called them to ask if they could now rebook my flight since the mistake had been theirs, and the answer was no. Even after I explained that when I'd booked my flight I had originally asked if they flew to Medford, and they had mistakenly said no, they still would not re-book my flight.
Not giving up, I'd called them again when I reached Boston Logan airport from a payphone in the terminal, being transferred from one person to the next until I had to leave when I was the last person at the gate and the flight was boarding.
Thinking I might be able to get a more sympathetic response now I'm in Portland, I just tried again. I found a pay phone in the airport and made another call. I spent over an hour being directed to one person to the next to the next, telling each the reason I was asking to be booked on a flight from Portland to Medford. I did find a really nice customer services guy who patiently explained how the system worked and how near impossible it was to help me. However he did say he could put in a special request. The trouble was he would not receive a reply until early tomorrow morning because all the offices were now closed, and did I really want to risk then getting a 'no' and missing the overnight bus tonight? I said I wasn't sure, I'd have to think about it and phone back.
So here I am facing an overnight bus ride to Medford, leaving at midnight arriving at six the next morning. I'm fuming.
I've been looking for a seat in the airport so I can sit and think, but there are no seats in this part of the terminal. So I just took the elevator up one level and now I see three. There's a lady sitting at the end, so I go past and plop down at the other end and let out a huge sigh.
"Is it that bad?", she asks.
"You could say", I reply and I start to tell her why I'm exasperated.
The she looks at me right in the eye and says "Did you say you prayers this morning?".
You could have knocked me over with a feather. Talk about a thunderbolt! It was as if God was talking right to me himself.
I got to my feet and looked at her, shaking my head. She looked back at me with big eyes and she looked and looked. I'm not sure if she says "tut, tut" or if I just imagine that. All is silent. Then I say very quietly,"Thank you so much, you couldn't say anything more perfect; that is exactly what I need to hear".
