Airing Of Grievances

I flew from Seattle to Sacramento on Saturday, December 20. I reserved a flat-rate taxi ride from my apartment to the airport, and it started to snow as I approached the airport terminal. When I later glanced out a terminal window, the tarmac was carpeted with snow, and more was still falling. Earlier flights were delayed, but fortunately my flight was delayed only thirty minutes, so I grabbed a beer. We boarded without further delays, but we didn’t depart until hours later. It seemed like one problem after another conspired to keep us put. Deicing the plane took three tries because the fluid tank ran empty. Then other airlines hogged a vehicle they needed. Then the plane next to us backed away from the terminal just after we did, then parked in our way for several minutes, as if they saw us leaving and didn’t want us to get in their way. We were delayed about three hours.

I was gone for two weeks, and I figured that by the time I got back, the worst of the weather would be past. My plane departed on time from Sacramento on Sunday, January 4, at 4:30 PM: plenty of time to get home and relax. As we left, it began to snow in Seattle, which no one had forecast. The snow reduced the rate at which the Seattle airport landed planes, and the geniuses at Southwest forgot to put extra fuel in our tank, so we couldn’t have sustained a holding pattern while waiting for our turn to land. We diverted to Spokane, on the other side of Washington, to refuel. The Spokane tarmac was carpeted with snow too, but it wasn’t snowing. We circled in the plane on the ground near the terminal for a half hour before a gate opened up. They refueled the plane, and we waited until 10 PM to confirm our place in line to land at Seattle. At 9 PM the crew suggested we deplane and eat something before we left. Most of us deplaned, but they held us standing at the terminal entrance for ten minutes while they wrung their hands and deliberated whether to actually let us leave since they might need to recall us early. They finally let us go, and I stood in the food court about a minute before they paged us to return to the plane. We departed Spokane and arrived in Seattle.

I got my bags and waited at least forty-five minutes outside in the cold for a taxi in a line that had about a hundred people in it. I had canceled my flat-rate taxi ride in Spokane, which would have cost me $30, and paid $45 to get home in a regular taxi. The taxi’s credit card reader didn’t work, so we had to stop at an ATM so I could get cash. The driver helped himself to a $5 tip without mentioning it.

I got home at 2 AM, making it a 9.5 hour trip. I’m so glad I missed the worst of the weather.