I am so grateful to have another term here in the wonderful country of South Korea. Last term I let a break-up taint my experience and I let this "funk", as I so lovingly called my sour mood, keep me from blogging.
My second term here is another chance to do things right. And what better way to start a grand new adventure than with a stressful international flight.
Get to the airport at least an hour early. Yes, we all know this. I know this, you reading this undoubtedly knows this. But you'll be reminded anyway. No, the woman at the Alaskan Airlines counter does not care that your itinerary says Delta and so you went to the Delta counter only to wait and be told that actually your flight is with Alaskan. She also doesn't care that you waited in line for 30 minutes to talk to her. No. There is a strict 40 minute cutoff and she was not going to let me on my flight. You see, I only had 38 minutes.
"What can I do, then?" I asked. Internally I told myself not to make a fuss or panic. I would get to Korea one way or another. I just hoped I didn't need to buy a new ticket.
She let out an exasperated huff. "Let me go ask my supervisor."
When she returned she informed me that they would make an exception for me (how kind) and she took my bag gave me my boarding pass. "Hurry," she said with a condescending sort of tone, "You only have 30 minutes. You better run."
"Thank you," I said, because my Pacific Northwest heart wouldn't allow me not to, and I hurried through security (five minutes) and down to the last gate (ten minutes) found my seat (mere moments) and waited for my plane to take off (about fourty-five minutes). Tell me to run... The woman at the desk continued to piss me off for most of the flight, but not as much as the two people seated to my right who discussed wine and Italy and the irresponsibility of twenty-somethings in a flirty fashion the entire two hours to LAX.
My layover in LAX was only two hours from landing of one plane to the taking off of the other. No problem. I stupidly thought to myself. In LAX if you are transferring to an international flight you have to go to an outside terminal, Tom Bradley, with its own security.
TSA is allowed to be frustrated. I get it. Your job isn't easy. Although often times they should be frustrated, they usually are not. I have never had a bad experience with TSA in PDX. Not so much as a downward turned mouth. Besides maybe a firm voice where necessary I have never experienced a TSA agent be anything but nice.
Tom Bradley is where they send the surliest and least patient TSA agents to all piss each other off. Security took about an hour and a half which is a little nerve racking in and of its own. But the agents made it far worse. Nearly all of us in line were waiting to go to South Korea and, with the size of the plane, it should have been assumed that we all needed to go through security. But our mere existence pissed them off. One agent had an elderly woman with a Chinese passport come up and she spoke loudly and slowly despite the woman speaking English.
"Wooooooow..." the agent said. "You're late. You're plane is boarding already. Do you know boarding?"
"Yes," the woman said, "I have been waiting in line."
This response should have been enough for the agent to stop speaking to her like a child who just drank the secret stash of horse tranquilizers. But it wasn't.
"It is 10:35. TEN. THIRTY. FIVE. Do you understand? You should be on your plane by now."
"I have been waiting in line since before nine-thirty," the woman said with more patience and sweetness than I knew someone could muster in such a situation. I would have gladly decked the agent for her if I hadn't been in a separate line (and also afraid of being tased).
The agent looked away, before handing the woman's passport and boarding pass back. "Don't know what to tell you. Run, run, run," she said, making the motion of running with her index and middle fingers.
Because running through the scanners passed TSA agents is the best of advice.
If you are going to have such a frustrating start to your day followed by a thirteen hour flight, make sure that flight is with Korean Air.
Holy F bomb.
I sat down in my seat as the uber kind flight attendants put my heavy carry-on in the overhead compartment. In front of me was a television that I assumed they would show the in-flight movies on.
Before I could look into it much another flight attendant came up to me. "Excuse me, miss. Did you order the vegetarian meal?"
Relief. "Yes," I said with a smile. "Thank you."
"Would you like a drink with lunch?"
"Oh, no thank you," I said, maintaining my smile but inwardly thinking Ain't nobody got money for that!
My focus returned to the TV in front of me. My initial assumption had been wrong. You choose what you want to watch. And I don't mean just reruns of Friends and Two and a Half Men (though they have those). They had brand new movies like Gravity, Last Vegas, Thor, etc., documentaries on travel, food, and a million other things. Korean shows were listed. They even had games to play.
Gravity... I thought to myself. That was supposed to be really good. I wonder how much it is. But the only two buttons offered were "Play" and "Trailer". I assumed if I hit play it would then prompt me to pay for it, or at least tell me the price. But the movie simply started.
I looked one way, then the other. Did I break it? Did it charge my card automatically?
I paused a moment longer as the unthinkable came to my mind.
Was it free?
Indeed it was. Along with comfortable seats (the most comfortable economy has to offer anyway), two full meals and two snacks, along with a constant barrage of refreshments, all the movies shows and games were free.
I suddenly got a nauseating feeling in my stomach...Had I turned down a free drink?
Indeed, I had.
