Airport chaos
Thirteen hours after landing in Boston and reporting two lost bags, I just received a midnight call from Jetblue that my suitcases will arrive in the next two to three hours. Eeek!
I requested they call me again upon arrival, so the suitcases aren’t sitting on my front porch until I awake. (My roommates wouldn’t notice anything on the porch, I’m sure, as one of my roommates just knocked on my door to tell me something without having the goodness to say “Welcome back” or “Hope you had a safe flight.”)
The El Al flight from Tel Aviv to New York was successful, and I managed to zonk out about 4-5 hours. Judging from the online map, I slept from around Copenhagen to Iceland, and again around Newfoundland.
After arriving at JFK Airport, things got crazy.
The customs line through passport control flowed smoothly for the approximate 15 people in my group, but our luggage took forever to slide down the concourse chute. After riding the monorail from Terminal 4 to Terminal 6, I saw hundreds of people standing in an outdoor snaking line and in dozens of haphazard indoor lines, all with Jetblue boarding passes in hand and waiting to check their bags.
Sadly, I lacked the know-how to push my way to the front until it was too late. So, I was bumped to the next flight, two hours later.
I had a confirmed seat, though, which was also the case for Matt. Rich, Amy, and Meggan had standby seats and managed to get on board. Karen, Julie, and Michelle couldn’t get seats, so they remained on standby. Everyone else in our group either found alternative airlines or rented cars to drive to Boston.
It was hellish.
Once in Boston, my suitcases weren’t there. It seems JFK had a conveyor belt problem, or maybe it was a Jetblue problem, but suffice to say none of our bags made it on that flight.
Considering the next inbound flight from JFK to Logan was at 2pm, and I just got the call at midnight, I wonder when my bags were flown.
If I was employed, I’d be calling in sick on Monday. My metabolics are screwed, so off to sleep.
