Why I Loath That Airline, What I Learned About Warts, And Other Things From My Voyage To Virginia

I recently flew to Virgina for an extended weekend.

Last year, when I flew to Virigina, the airline made such a muddle of the flight (I don't want to refer to them by name, so I'll make up a clever fake name to use... um... ah! Untied Airlines!) that they sent me a $100 voucher good against another flight. I figured, one flight, $100 voucher, my out of pocket expense will be minimal.

So I logged on Untied's website. Turns out you can't use such vouchers online. You have to call. So I call. Turns out you have to pay a $15 fee when you phone Untied, they'd really like you to book online. At the time, I was tired, it was late, I just wanted to book the flight, so I said nothing.

Later, though, I emailed Untied and expressed my disappointment that they would require me to book by phone and then penalize me for "choosing" to book by phone.

In response, they told me that, had I booked online, I could have avoided the fee.

In response, I told them that I would much rather have booked online, as I don't particularly enjoy talking to Untied employees; sadly, their own rules prevented me from doing so.

In response, they told me that, had I booked online, I could have avoided the fee.

In response, I expressed my concern that perhaps they were not actually reading my email, and if that were the case, I would prefer they simply ignore me altogether, rather than respond with foolish advice.

I have not heard from them since.

The flight took off just two hours after the scheduled departure time, something of an accomplishment for my Untied friends, and I was certainly better off than a young lady on my flight. She had booked an 8 am flight to Denver, which had been cancelled. She was on an early afternoon flight to Baltimore, to get on a flight from Baltimore to Denver, as that was the only way Untied could see to get her where she was going.

The flight itself was uneventful, and the delightfully warm weather in Maryland was most welcome. I caught the Metro bus to the Metro Green line station. I took my seat on the train, and, as it turns out, a young lady and her parents were seated close by.

Her first topic of conversation was warts. Specifically, hers. On her left hand. And how her doctor couldn't get rid of them. And it cost her $3o a visit. And her old doctor could get rid of warts, but she wasn't on the plan. This topic of conversation lasted through the first four stops the train made.

From there, she moved on to summer, and how it makes people stink, and how much she hates that. This consumed several more stops.

By the time the train arrived at the L'Enfant station, I was more than happy to grab my bags and go.

My first stop on my little vacation was the Arlington home of: Kim and Rich, two dear old friends from my days in Michigan; and a new friend, Jared. I spent several delightful days in the company of these fellows, enjoying delicious home-cooked meals, a visit to the National Portrait Gallery, and much beer.

From Arlington, the four of us motored through the lovely Virginia countryside to Arlington, where my sweetie Matthew was appearing in the Shenandoah University Summer Theatre production of "The Wizard of Oz" as the Scarecrow.

We enjoyed several delightful meals, and a disappointing one at the Triangle Diner, where Winchester's own Patsy Cline once worked as a waitress. Matthew and I had dined there in 2005; but this time, things were different. We especially enjoyed the show; Matthew was great, and the woman playing the Witch was wonderful, too.

The Virginia boys left on Sunday to return home. Matthew and I left on Monday, bound for Chicago and our own bed. Our plan was to stop at a hotel in Maumee, Ohio. The room was paid for with a coupon I'd gotten, good for a night's stay, after the awful time I'd had checking out at one of their hotels in 2005.

(What had happened was, the rate I'd booked online had not been put into the file the hotel had for my reservation. Which is fine, things happen. What made me angry was how unpleasant the staff was when I checked out: the old guy working complained about "You people" -- it seems he hates how we people think we can get things for free. And the young lady called me a liar, to my face. Subsequent conversations with the hotel's general manager led to the acknowledgement that I was right and they were wrong.)

You can imagine my concern, upon arriving at the hotel around 11.15 pm, to find that one of the two on-duty staff members had locked herself out of the hotel. She finally had to pound on a window, summoning one of the housekeeping staff to let her in.

The next day, many hours, many dollars of gas, and several thrift store stops later, we arrived back at Balmoral Avenue in Chicago, happy to be home.