Naga... final act.

Our protagonist was left contemplating changing clothes in a Logan-airport lavatory while still trying to make it to MIT on time at 9:30am on Monday. All the while avoiding piss stains.

Stupid, stupid protagonist.

That weekend, señor Malchev makes his 3rd and final trek by BART to San Francisco International Airport. He makes it to the airport at 10pm for an 11:20pm flight, flies through security (because the 1st-class moron from act 2 had given him a boarding pass,) and sits down comfortably by the gate, laptop in lap (duh!) and thinking that he will definitely make it this time. High spirits all around at this late hour. The hidalgo was even contemplating a Sunday-night scotch. Ah, bliss. Bliss, I tell you!

"Excuse me," says an angelic voice next to him. He lifts his gaze from his lap (where he left his laptop last paragraph,) and looks at the source. "Could you wake me up when they call up for boarding, please, if I fall asleep?"

"Of course," says Malchev, somewhat bewildered. "But we'll be boarding in 20 minutes or so,"

"Noooooooo," says the owner of the angelic voice. "They've delayed the flight until 2am, at least."

(Where have I heard this exact sort of "No" before?)

I just started laughing... I guess it just was't meant to be. When I was 5-6 years younger, there was this freak streak of incidents where I'd look at the clock, and it would be exactly 11:11pm. Day after day. It lasted for months, and soon it started to freak me out. I started checking to see if a flight I was on wasn't numbered 1111. I started being careful when driving past 11 at night... weird stuff. So I thought, irrationally, that maybe I shouldn't get on this flight anyway, after all, it was past 11pm... :)

Stupid, stupid protagonist.

I walked up to the gate and said to the guy behind the counter (he was borderline rude, of course; this must be among American Airlines' hiring criteria) that there's no point for me to even fly to Boston at this time, because I was going to miss my appointment. He gave me the brush-off, telling me to go back to the check-in line to see what they could do. I lingered, not knowing what to do, for a few moments.

At this point, a girl came running. She was clearly agitated, on the verge of bursting in tears. She had been told by the morons downstairs at the check-in line that the morons upstairs would hold the line for her to make she she could board the flight to New York. You see, she had to attend her aunt's memorial service Monday morning in Boston, and seeing as the Boston flight was delayed, she wanted to board the New York one. Oh, and by the way, AA had a systems failure so she wasn't notified of the delay until she got to the airport.

The guy told her that the flight had already been closed (true, I had seen him close the flight just a minute earlier) and ther was nothing he could do. The girl got hysterical, rightfull questioning why the fuck they had told her, nay, promised her, that she'd get a seat on the NY flight.

The moron behind the counter looked at her, then back at me, and decided I was the lesser evil. He beckoned me to follow him to the check-in counter, where he used his authority to turn my ticket into a reservation good for the next month. Now knowing what to say, I told the crying girl I was sorry for her loss, I added quickly that I hated AA, then hurried behind the moron. I told him they should have not lied to her... to no avail, of course.

So, I walked out of this bullshit with a $400 voucher and a reservation good through the month of October. I don't know what to do with either of there, because I honestly don't ever want to fly with American Airlines again. Ever.

PS: AA said the flight was delayed due to bad weather in Boston. I called my friend there the next day to ask him how the weather was. He said there was a light drizzle, but nothing that would prevent flights.