[travel] The moral equivalent of a Monday

When I got up this morning, I did Web check-in. I never do Web check-in, mostly because I almost always have checked bags and it seems pointless. I stand in line either way.

Got to the airport, thanks to my Dad, breezed past the Alaska/Horizon counter, got through security only to be interviewed very closely about whether I was carrying any knives. Which of course I’m not. I was pleasant, not sarcastic or grouchy, which turned out to be a damned good thing because the TSA screener pulled a cheese knife and a corkscrew out of my duffel. Much to my surprise. I apologized, he confiscated them, and waved me on.

So I went and sat in the A concourse. Which, for some reason, doesn’t have those master flight boards. I kept looking for my flight at one of the gates, kept not seeing it. Finally went up to one of the counters and asked if I was in the right place.

“Oh, you were on the 2:30. We cancelled that flight.”

And, because I’d done Web check-in, I had no idea about this. “Ok, what happens now?”

“We’ve rebooked you. Your new flight leaves at 2:30.”

“Um, ok. Thank you.”

In other news, I somehow deleted my Pine address book with several thousand email addresses in it gathered over the last 10 years or so. This is way beyond irksome. Hoping my ISP can recover it.

I am so not running with scissors today.