20160104 (airportica-3)

This is Lufthansa passing out drinks to people waiting in line to rebook during a delay. Our lines were longer but the only United staff available were those struggling to get us on later flights.

An agent came to the gate to rebook

Everyone who would not connect.

A line of easily one hundred quickly

Formed. Neat, professional, but

Clearly exhausted, he announced,

“There’re other agents two gates

Down—I’m only one person 

Here for a hour.” The departure 

Time flicked to 8:30 PM. As the

Line grew I thought to check 

If I still could connect. He left soon

But those waiting did not boo.

One lady offered United should

Just come by and explain there

Were no pilots. There was really

No scheduled flight. They just chose

A number to keep us happy rather

Than running madly in the terminal

With torches. I said if nineteen Saudis

Could fly four planes, at least one of

Us should give it a shot once it was

Fueled. The line reassembled

At the service center two gates 

Away. I reassured a woman behind

Me the line was moving fairly 

Fast since there were more agents—

Four, then three, then two. It doubled

Back snakelike toward the counter, 

Brought me opposite no less 

Than Amy Schumer who denied

My query but sounded just like herself.

“Do you think the real Ms. Schumer 

Would be stuck in a rebooking queue

In the Seattle airport?” I proposed

To the others around me we’ve

Been together long enough to

Merit a FaceBook page for a group.

Told another lady with a kid 

How I admired women who flew 

With youngsters—more courageous

Than many who went into battle.

She appreciated the observation

But stated if a man really felt

That way, he’d yield his space in

Line to the mother. I almost did,

But since I was finally next, she’d

Be up soon I assured cowardly. At

The counter, Pauline, my rebooker

Clicked the keyboard to work any

Magic but explained so much 

Depended on others first clarifying

What was available. When after

Much telephony, keyboarding she

Finally produced a plan to get

Me to San Francisco, then Chicago,

Then home, I metaphorically

Leapt over the counter and gave

Her throat the deepest tongue-wash 

An old man could muster. We had 

Taken longer. Others buzzed

Through the agents and people

In the line were talking. As I 

Walked away I explained, “They’re

Building my plane now. Should 

Be ready to fly before 6 AM.” In

The background one guy lost it 

Cursing loudly, repeatedly. He was

Soon 9-1-1’d by security to the

Airport hoosegow.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016