Hiking a mile in the mile high city…

Hi dear readers!  Tonight I find myself in Phoenix, Arizona.  The trip out from Conservative Hell came with a bit of drama that caused me to do what is stated in the title, at least adjacent to the mile high city as I had to transit Denver International Airport instead of Chicago O’Hare.

I got out here, but not before I received a call from the airline telling me that my flight from my preferred airport was cancelled.  This wasn’t a nice “your flight is cancelled, here’s what you need to do…” call.  No… this was more like, “Your flight has been cancelled.  Have a nice day!”  without a clue as to how to take care of the situation.  Piss-poor customer service brought to me by the same airline that abandoned me in a snowdrift in February 2003 and then said, “The weather is not our problem.”

Initially they found me a flight out of my preferred airport that would have gotten me to Phoenix last night, but then a supervisor lead customer disservice agent nixed what the agent I got in touch with tried to do.  I’m sure because it was going to cost the airline some money to do it as they would be re-booking me on a competing airline to do this.

The airline did not have any issue with having me drive 90 minutes to an airport in an adjacent city, with a flight transiting Denver where I could get another flight to Phoenix.  So it is apparently o.k. to make me spend money to accommodate the airline, but the airline can’t be bothered to compensate me when they screw up.


So, I drove to Capitol City airport, parked the car, and caught the shuttle to the terminal where I proceeded to use my confirmation number to check in for my flight at a kiosk.  The kiosk gave me flak and said I needed to see an agent at the ticket counter.

I shuffled over to the line at the ticket counter where I stood in one place so long I can only describe my feeling as being such that I thought the sun was going to expand and consume the Earth before I got to the front.  Finally I got a boarding pass and wandered to the gate.

I got to Denver.  I had never been to the new airport so imagine my shock when I arrived and had to hike a mile in the mile high city to get to my next gate.  What the hell is up with this airport?  Brand new, at least by US Aviation standards, and there is no efficient system to move people from one gate to far off gates that involves some sort of ground transport?  I had to walk from the end of one terminal to the other, and trust me, this is no small feat.  I can only imagine what it would have been like if I had to leave the terminal in which I arrived to catch my connecting flight in another.

Note to Denver:  Go take a look at the Northwest Airlines World Gateway Terminal in Detroit for a lesson in how to do this task properly.

As I hiked through the halls of DIA, I had a Proclaimers song playing in my head.  At least it made the time seem to pass much more quickly.  I did arrive in Phoenix last night, and only about 30-minutes later than I would have otherwise.

The good news is that at the end of this process, I got to sleep with the guy I love.



One Response to “Hiking a mile in the mile high city…”

  1. As Shakespeare said, “All’s well that ends well.”
    I would have taken a bus or driven my car and enjoyed the scenery. I hope you weren’t too tired and realized the next morning it was the wrong aprtment and the wrong guy.

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