If I were a rich girl....
If I were super-rich... I would go to Germany all the time. I'd probably have a summer home there, or something. I'd seriously even think about living there if it weren't for my mother who would most assuredly veto such an idea. Anyway. I'd totally go there all the time if I were very rich. But I would never again fly KLM... even if they GAVE me a ticket (which I feel they really should after our last meeting...) SOOOOOO this is how it all went down....
I got on the plane in Chicago at noon. No problem. I hate flying, but I sufficently annesthitized myself with the cunning use of small bottles of airline provided Skyy vodka. (At this point, the airline and I were on friendly -- if somewhat hesistant-- terms.) We took off and landed in Detroit. No problem. I was then allowed enough time to go to McDonalds, tour the lovely Detroit airport (and yes, it really is lovely) and read a book (yes. An entire book.) before my next flight to Amsterdam. From Amsterdam I was slated to fly to Berlin, and there be met by my Mutti (who is really NOT my mom, in case you're tuning in late.. She's the lady I stay with in Germany who is the same age as my mom, and is related to me --- but very distantly -- and saying "mutti" is easier than figuring out the lineage and then vocabulary to describe her correctly...). BUT (and here comes the fun part!!) we had to make an emergency landing in Boston, Mass. Apparently, someone was ill and they had to land. Now I'm not blaming the airline that someone was ill... but I am blaming them for the fact that it took us more than two hours to take off again! Come on!! People! So while sitting there (and we were asked to remain sitting, please, for the remainder of the wait...), I used my cell phone (God bless technology!) to alert my parents who then called Christa (Mutti) in Germany, and told her I would not be arriving as scheduled (if at all!!!). We FINALLY took off, and landed in Amsterdam .. Of course, by the time we arrived in Amsterdam, my flight to Berlin had already left -- and so had the next two flights after that. There were only two more options available... the one in three hours... and the one in three minutes. Of course, of the many languages I studied in my lifetime -- Dutch was never one of them (oh AJ, how I could have used you this trip!!). So I only understood -- Berlin ...blah..blah.. blah..dutch...dutch..dutch... C3. So I look up and am at A7... and I have to run all through the A's back to 1, and then through the B's, and finally to the C's. Where the KLM lady wouldn't let me get on the plane because my boarding pass wasn't for that plane. Nevermind the dozen or so other people from my other flight that were all having the same problem. And I swear to you, it was like that part in "Meet the Parents" when Ben Stiller is trying to get on a plane and the flight attendent is typing ridiculously fast... and then nothing comes up... and then she types again for like ten minutes...?? You know? It was just like that. Finally, she lets me (and my fellow jet-lagged passengers) and there's litterally like three other people on the plane. Basically she could have just let everyone in the airport on that plane, and there would still have been free seats! So by the time we take off and land -- I am about three hours later than I was supposed to be, and I'm praying that somehow my German relatives know about this. THEN -- my suitcase doesn't arrive in Berlin. To make matters worse, all the taking off and landing of the day has completely deafened me in the right ear. I couldn't hear a thing. Then my ear pops and it's the worst pain I have ever personally experienced, and all I could hear was ringing and echoes. Echoes in German are the worst kinds of echoes. I hadn't a clue what was going on around me. I couldn't understand a word!! It was horrid. And then through the sea of strange people speaking a strange language -- my hero! Thomas! My "brother" (see above comments about Mutti and relationship, etc...) was there to take care of me. And take care of me, he did. As soon as he figured from my broken German what the problem was -- he immediately handled everything. And we were the first people in this tiny little office. All the other poor Americans from my flight turned up a while later with that horrible, dazed, sad, scared look on all their faces. The same look I'm sure was on mine right up until I saw Thomas! So he took care of things. BUT of course, KLM wasn't done pissing me off yet. ....
However... the hour grows late,... and I've had enough typing for one night. If you made it to the bottom of this long narative -- congratulations to you... but you probably should find some more things to do to occupy your free time.....
I got on the plane in Chicago at noon. No problem. I hate flying, but I sufficently annesthitized myself with the cunning use of small bottles of airline provided Skyy vodka. (At this point, the airline and I were on friendly -- if somewhat hesistant-- terms.) We took off and landed in Detroit. No problem. I was then allowed enough time to go to McDonalds, tour the lovely Detroit airport (and yes, it really is lovely) and read a book (yes. An entire book.) before my next flight to Amsterdam. From Amsterdam I was slated to fly to Berlin, and there be met by my Mutti (who is really NOT my mom, in case you're tuning in late.. She's the lady I stay with in Germany who is the same age as my mom, and is related to me --- but very distantly -- and saying "mutti" is easier than figuring out the lineage and then vocabulary to describe her correctly...). BUT (and here comes the fun part!!) we had to make an emergency landing in Boston, Mass. Apparently, someone was ill and they had to land. Now I'm not blaming the airline that someone was ill... but I am blaming them for the fact that it took us more than two hours to take off again! Come on!! People! So while sitting there (and we were asked to remain sitting, please, for the remainder of the wait...), I used my cell phone (God bless technology!) to alert my parents who then called Christa (Mutti) in Germany, and told her I would not be arriving as scheduled (if at all!!!). We FINALLY took off, and landed in Amsterdam .. Of course, by the time we arrived in Amsterdam, my flight to Berlin had already left -- and so had the next two flights after that. There were only two more options available... the one in three hours... and the one in three minutes. Of course, of the many languages I studied in my lifetime -- Dutch was never one of them (oh AJ, how I could have used you this trip!!). So I only understood -- Berlin ...blah..blah.. blah..dutch...dutch..dutch... C3. So I look up and am at A7... and I have to run all through the A's back to 1, and then through the B's, and finally to the C's. Where the KLM lady wouldn't let me get on the plane because my boarding pass wasn't for that plane. Nevermind the dozen or so other people from my other flight that were all having the same problem. And I swear to you, it was like that part in "Meet the Parents" when Ben Stiller is trying to get on a plane and the flight attendent is typing ridiculously fast... and then nothing comes up... and then she types again for like ten minutes...?? You know? It was just like that. Finally, she lets me (and my fellow jet-lagged passengers) and there's litterally like three other people on the plane. Basically she could have just let everyone in the airport on that plane, and there would still have been free seats! So by the time we take off and land -- I am about three hours later than I was supposed to be, and I'm praying that somehow my German relatives know about this. THEN -- my suitcase doesn't arrive in Berlin. To make matters worse, all the taking off and landing of the day has completely deafened me in the right ear. I couldn't hear a thing. Then my ear pops and it's the worst pain I have ever personally experienced, and all I could hear was ringing and echoes. Echoes in German are the worst kinds of echoes. I hadn't a clue what was going on around me. I couldn't understand a word!! It was horrid. And then through the sea of strange people speaking a strange language -- my hero! Thomas! My "brother" (see above comments about Mutti and relationship, etc...) was there to take care of me. And take care of me, he did. As soon as he figured from my broken German what the problem was -- he immediately handled everything. And we were the first people in this tiny little office. All the other poor Americans from my flight turned up a while later with that horrible, dazed, sad, scared look on all their faces. The same look I'm sure was on mine right up until I saw Thomas! So he took care of things. BUT of course, KLM wasn't done pissing me off yet. ....
However... the hour grows late,... and I've had enough typing for one night. If you made it to the bottom of this long narative -- congratulations to you... but you probably should find some more things to do to occupy your free time.....
posted by Martha @ 8:08 PM
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