The Harvard Crimson
Dear Boston and your terrible winter (and to the airline that caused my misery which I would totally name if I could),
All I needed from my weekend in New York was to go to my stupid little orthodontist appointment to fix my stupid little crossbite that resulted from my stupid little retainer not fitting to my stupid little teeth. I promised I was going to be right back but I guess you couldn’t stand to see me leave because you kept me at the airport for ten horrible hours until you canceled finally my flight. And I totally get it, you might say, “Annette, you should have known better! Harvard Today told you it was going to snow the day you were to leave. That’s a very good point, but what was I supposed to do?? My airline didn’t cancel my flight and I’m a broke student who didn’t buy insurance for her tickets and didn’t want to pay a fee to move them to another day, okay? ?
So, I braved your snow and took the T and the airport shuttle (first time alone), drove to Boston Logan International Airport and walked through the TSA. I was patiently waiting for my flight to take off when the kind stewardess told me that there were small delays but that we would be taking off shortly. It was a BIG FAT LIE but I didn’t know it at the time. Naively, I lived my life with FaceTiming friends and tried to get through a few class slides.
After about an hour of waiting, the announcement came that changed the course of my evening, my night and my early morning. Apparently there had been a small detail that the airline had failed to mention before, namely the fact that WE HAD NO PILOT. So you might be wondering, “What does this have to do with me?” Well, you see, the pilot was supposed to have flown from New York to Boston, but since that didn’t stop the snowstorms, the poor guy was stuck in New York. I hope now you feel just a little bit of sympathy. Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of my fight.
At this point, I panic a bit but I try to keep my composure. I’m sitting alone not knowing what to do when I see a group of people approach the stewardess asking if he can change flights. Normally this is something I would never, ever do because defending myself gives me ~anxiety~ but I thought it was time to put on my big girl pants. I went to the flight attendant and she told me that I had to go to the “Just Ask” counter if I wanted to change flights. I did as I was told and waited in a line for half an hour (which was a recurring theme of the night). When it was finally my turn to speak with a customer service employee, I was faced with my worst nightmare: making decisions.
TL;DR: There were two flights going to New York around the same time. One flight had no pilot and the plane on the other flight was frozen. Since I’m undecided, I let the nice worker (who was avoiding giving me definitive advice, probably not to be sued or something) choose for me. She hesitantly suggested I go with the frozen plane because they said they could fix it soon. In hindsight, that was a HUGE MISTAKE.
At the time though, I was so proud of myself for taking initiative and being ~adult~ to the fullest! Again, I was totally wrong. It took hours for maintenance trucks to come and spray the plane with steam. By this time, everyone at the airport was getting upset, but the airline was insisting that we take off at some point that night. You’d think we’d all give up and leave at this point, but I guess everyone, myself included, passionately wanted to leave Boston (because why wouldn’t we).
Next thing we heard, the airline told us the flight had been canceled due to the maintenance issue they had promised to fix. So what did they do? They took us back to the flight without a captain because apparently now there is a captain! Crazy right? Well, it gets even crazier.
I ended up boarding the plan. We were told the plane just needed to be de-iced for 15 minutes and then we would take off (which didn’t end up happening, FYI). Nevertheless, we all sat in the moldy plane for a good two hours until the captain gave us the devastating news that the flight had not yet been canceled (what does that mean? ??) but it will be (again, what does that mean????). Our only “options” were to either go get a refund or stay on the plane until the flight was cancelled. What was really the icing on the cake of the whole fiasco was hearing a guy proudly say to his girlfriend, “Baby, they just want us to refund our tickets so we can’t sue.” We have to stay on the plane” (notices the rolling of the eyes).
By this point it was well past 2am and I was so sick and tired from the airport that I ran to reception and waited another half hour to ask for a refund. I gave up on leaving Boston at this point. With what sanity I had left, I called an Uber and headed back to my dorm. So Boston: abcdefu and your airport and the airline and your snow and your broken planes that I wish I’d never see again but had to see because the first thing I did the next morning was to book another ticket to New York (via another airline) and left.