This has been a rough 48 hours. From departure red-eye issues at LAX, to rental car snafus in Cincinnati Airport (located in Kentucky FWIW), to a drunken belligerence at the college town, to a painful run with nagging chronic injuries, the final insult was my flight home as delayed so I’ll miss my connection and now will either get a hotel voucher at midnight tonight … or I won’t and I’ll be stuck in the Charlotte Airport overnight. The airline’s customer service reps keep telling me I need to speak to a support rep, which is apparently different from a customer service rep but I’m told will still be called a customer service rep when I find one. I wish they’d rename themselves Kafka Airlines but since there is no truth to anything they’re saying to me they definitely shouldn’t be honest in advertising either.
But other than that, how was the play, Mrs Lincoln?
It’s a small race – 200 marathoners, albeit 1800 half marathoners starting at the same time. The course was an out and back mostly on the converted bike trail… so I’m not sure why they had such a crazed course map drawing.
It was a pretty bike trail. But I was hurting. And little did I realize just how hurting I’d be when I finished and got the delayed notification about a flight delay.
There’s been too many needles with too any eyes looking to be thread when all I have is this rapidly unraveling piece of twine that was measured once and cut twice.
I sit here at the CVG airport, having come early to try and get clarity on WHY my rebooked flight wasn’t showing up anywhere – the app, online, in the phone system – only to discover that it hadn’t been issued pending review by a support agent. Which again is apparently is just a customer service representative at the airport who is called not a support agent but a customer service representative.
Exhausted and beaten by the run and life itself, I’ll just post a bunch of photos and curl up in the corner waiting for the dawn to maybe get home then.
