Surviving Terminal Three

I haven't written anything in a while and this one's been in the stir for a while and is still an incomplete drama, but should make for decent reading till I can get something more worthwhile up.

August 22

BA 179 touched down at John F. Kennedy Airport in New York City at nine in the evening. So far, it had been an uncharacteristically uneventful journey if you discount the Spanish lesbian couple I met in Calcutta. Immigration and customs went smoothly, my bags were waiting for me at the carousel… everything was in its right place! I was amazed.

It was going to be a wait at JFK for my connecting to Syracuse so I decided to get a hotel, but in the vicinity, there were only rooms available at the Ramada Inn… for $217 a night. Right, cheap that I am (I don’t even bother to pay $3 for a baggage trolley), I made my way down to terminal 3 to try and find an earlier flight. This was quite a quest in itself, because Delta 3 is a labyrinth of wrong directions and closed doors. Eventually I managed to discover the Delta hideout after following an itinerant group of bumped off gypsies for half an hour.

There was no earlier flight. I would have to take the 1:15 pm flight the next afternoon. Without asking Ron to do the math, I figured that was a good 15-hour wait. I needed to set up camp for the night. After several nights spent at airports all over Europe I was quite accustomed to this, nothing to take pride in, but it did take one back to the ‘hunter-gatherer’ days. First, seek out abandoned luggage trolleys to hold your baggage, and then find good shelter close to a freshwater source and a toilet. Finally, before attempting to snatch some shuteye, it is advisable to secure your baggage with off-the-cuff anti-theft systems like grappling hooks, stray wires, whatever is at hand.

Unfortunately, the Delta Domestic Departures terminal is not built to host the needs of temporary hobos like myself. There were exactly two sets of waiting seats able to accommodate precisely nine people give or take a couple, literally. Another overnighter couple had annexed one bench and I lost my seat on the other when I went to use the facilities.

For a while, I just wandered around the now closed terminal, pushing my trolley, wishing Hann were around. Hann knew, through experience, how to hold on to territorial claims and was quite adept at finding lush green pastures. Eventually I decided to build my own shelter with the parts I had. I managed to smuggle myself behind enemy lines and steal a bunch of chairs from the check-in counters. The idea was to make a bed with six roller-chairs. It was a bad idea. I fell. Twice.

I was also getting a little hungry. Rations were running low. I had one bar of Dairy Milk, a KitKat, 2 bottles of Black Label, and a jar of chili-garlic spread. The terminal would open at 5, so I had to wait another six hours before more food would become available. Restraint was necessary.

I made a makeshift weight-holder using my trolley, backpack, and suitcase. I was not a comfortable arrangement, but I was not sleepy anyway, jet lag. I killed a couple of hours watching ‘Mona Lisa Smile’ that I had downloaded for Gupta and was still on my computer and watching people come and go. I had to get up and walk around every once in a while to stop my backside from falling asleep… it had been lethargically resting for the last 18 hours on the plane.

August 23

At 3:40 in the morning, I decided to give up on my attempts to get some sleep and started writing this, boredom being my sheer motivation. I have nothing else to add right now. I will continue to relate in real time if anything worthy of interest happens…

So after six cool-mints, ten hours, and $25 in excess baggage fines later I finally have my boarding pass… six hours before departure. I sit on the floor to charge my laptop and immediately security begins to ask my complexion a serious of arbitrary questions. Once it charges up a bit more, enough to watch a few episodes of ‘Entourage’, I will go through security.

Through security. First, I eat, good old Flaming Wok, or such… Chinese fast food places all look the same. Sleepy, so sleepy, and sick… sick from apathy and malnutrition, not to mention the head pounding dhickkao dhichkao music I have been subject to all night on the loud speakers. Please *insert supreme power of religious faith here*, will you not end it soon? Can you feel the sewage in my stream of consciousness bogging down my thinking?

After making pleasant conversation with a gentleman from the Emirates, and a short nap I find out that the 1:15 flight to Syracuse has been cancelled due to bad weather! In the summer – are you fucking kidding me? They give us the choice between taking a bus to Syracuse at 2 or taking the 5 pm flight, but no one has any idea if the $25 they charged me for excess baggage will be refunded if I take the bus. I met another chap from India going to SUNY-IT also in the same boat as me. If the 5 pm flight fails to arrive, I am quite fucked. The board says flight is on time, but there are still three long, excruciating hours to go and even then, things are not concrete.

I tried to call Ashlee to let her know what has happened so far, but the machine just ate up my dollar. Bhen chod, aaj to bad luck hi kharab hai… I had to call Amit with my UK roaming and asked him to let Ashlee know. I hope she got the message.

They just announced that the flight to Buffalo does not have a functioning toilet so passengers should use the toilet at the terminal before boarding. Is it any wonder why Delta is going bankrupt? I am slowly reaching boiling point. I might lose it anytime. Will this be a repeat of Chicago? They told us we are on our own if the 4:55 is cancelled. I hate flying. Worst-case scenario I think a bunch of us will cab it… there are enough irate customers here.

September 16

Eventually we did fly out... albeit at 10pm in the evening. The tornado had subsided. But my bags were lost, and they took four days to return them, without compensation. Never fly Delta ladies and gentlemen, never. Rather wishy-washy wrap up to the story, but I can't get back into the groove...