Back From Vacation! US Airways Sucks!

What do you mean, "Oh... you were gone??"

We had a lovely time on our cruise. I'll post details later, and bore the ever-loving shit out of you. I promise.

Today is reserved for my loathing and disgust with US Airways. I hate them all. May the airline go bankrupt. (Cheers!)

We arrived at the airport 7:30 Friday morning for a 2:45 flight. Yeah, won't be using THAT travel agency again. Anyway. All was spiffy until we noticed that Every. Single. US Air. Flight. Was. LATE. Coming in, going out, didn't matter. We also noticed that every Delta, AA, Norwegian Air, Bob's Airplane Service (and Bait & Tackle) was On. Time.

Our flight was almost an hour late. We had a 50 minute window to make the connection. Well, now we're down to -10 minutes. EVERYONE ELSE on the flight was rebooked to better connections. Except us. We're cursed or something. We go up to the counter to ask WTH??? and the guy's like "Oh... yeah. You're heading to Harrisburg. We were going to talk to you last."

Uh-oh. That can't be good.

"There's no way you're going to make your connection and we don't have anything else available until tomorrow."

Really. Not. Good.

"We can get you to Philadelphia and put you up in a hotel."

Um, no.

"Or we can put you up in Charlotte."

Slightly better, but still... no.

We wait for the flight to Charlotte, and en route, the pilot makes up some time. We now have a fabulous 8 minutes to make our connecting flight.

We land in Concourse B 4.

By the time we got off the plane, we had 5 1/2 minutes. Of course, the connecting flight was on time. Bastards.

Connection is in Concourse E 18. As you can see, it's a freaking hike.

Concourse E is up here ...................................X


and B is here ^

We RAN through the airport and made it just as they were closing the doors. They let us on (HOORAY!).

My chest was on fire. I am way out of shape. Oy.

We land in Harrisburg. (Yay! Almost home!)

But.

Only one of our suitcases landed with us.

Keep in mind, we had gotten up at 5 A.M. to be off the ship & to the airport. It's now 8:45 P.M. I was *not* a happy camper. Throw in a complete bitch with a comprehension deficiency at the luggage counter, and I'm ready to twist someone's head off and play soccer with it.

The dimwit in Miami put someone else's name on one of our suitcases. It is taking the scenic route to Harrisburg from Miami, via Houston.

Allegedly, we are guaranteed to have our suitcase within 48 hours. Yeah. I'll believe it when I have it in my hands.

What really irks me is that 90% of my souvinirs are in that suitcase. And my favorite jeans. I just want my stuff.

Grrrrrrr.