The following takes place from August 2nd to August 8th, 2005. The times of the flights are inexact, but as close to the actual time as I can recall.

Things were bad on Tuesday from the get-go, really. I started remembering all the things I forgot to pack for the trip I was taking to Houston. Bleh.

Thanks to a broken coke machine at work, I did catch a lucky break at work: a flat tire. The tire itself wasn't the lucky, but if it wasn't for my planned trip to get a Dew from the store, I wouldn't have noticed it until I was supposed to be hightailing it to Salt Lake City and my flight.

But rather than focus on the negative, I considered myself lucky that I could take care of it over my lunch break. If I'd discovered it later, I might have missed a flight.

Heaven forbid I miss a flight.

I actually got to Salt Lake earlier than expected, though I didn't beat the rain. Not wanting to wear a jacket all the way to Houston and back, I was soaked by the time I got into the airport terminal. But I was early so that was okay, too. Think positive, R. Alex, think positive.

Achoo.

Everything was according to plan after that. Checked bag. Tickets. Terminal location. Boarding. Sitting. Reading. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

For about half an hour, we were waiting for a runway. "These things sometimes happen," he said. Had I not just read an article on this subject recently, I might have believed him. "Sit tight," he said. "No one get up."

Someone didn't listen, however, and we missed our chance at a runway. We were back at the end of the light. "Let's everyone thank the guy in the lavatory for putting us further behind," he didn't say, though he might has well have. There was a sound and movement that gave us a brief hope that we might be taking off, but that was just everyone's eyes simultaneously rolling and grunting. It was that kind of atmosphere.

Ten minutes later,The Voice announced that the Las Vegas airport had been closed. Trying to look at the bright side, he said it was a good thing that we hadn't taken off yet because because if we had, we'd have to circle and land somewhere else to refill. Apologies to Mr. Lavatory, who'd kept us from taking off, were not forthcoming.

So we waited longer except that we could get up and move about the cabin at this point. If, that is, we didn't mind playing roadblock to the little kids that were sprinting up and down the walkway. I was thinking that it was unlikely that I'd make my connecting flight, though they were assuring us that flights both in and out of Vegas were downed, so we'd probably make our equally late connection.

Somewhere in Oklahoma, people waiting for a flight to Vegas were being told that if it came down to it, America West would put people up for the night in a hotel. Somewhere west of Las Vegas, a plane coming from Sacramento that did not have a Mr. Lavatory was circling the air and running out of fuel. Somewhere in Fresno, a plane hasn't even taken off due to mechanical issues, though that hasn't anything to do with anything. Yet.

About three hours - in total - past schedule we took off. Roughly 75-minutes later we landed in Vegas. I found out the first America West Lie in a short ten minutes upon landing. Instead of holding the outbound flights back so that people could make their connections, they sent them out half-full. In the meantime they were making preparations in the form of calling in what must have been every ticketing agent they have and alerting the federales that there might be a security issue.

The line was several hundred people long. Ten or so unconnected flights and a maintenance-deprived flight from Fresno.

While in line, a man asked if he could go in front of me. He said that he'd already been through the line, but he got faulty information so he needed to go through again. I let him. Same man was later seen cutting into the front of the line telling a federal security officer that he had gotten bad information twice.

"Sir, I strongly suggest you get to the end of the line," the officer said.

"You don't understand, I've been through twice," the agitated customer replied.

"Sir, I strongly suggest you go to the end of the line."

"You don't understand."

"Yes, sir, I do understand, and I also strongly suggest..."

Beaten, the man went to the end of the now-horrendously long line.

But earlier than that, and after his second trip, I got to talk to the ticket agent.

The Good News: They were going to fly to Houston again.

The Bad News: Not for another fourteen hours.

The Good News: I could take a connecting flight through Phoenix.

The Bad News: That was about six hours away.

The Good News: N/A

The Bad News: They don't provide free hotel rooms for those stuck overnight. That was lie number two. I was told by a passenger coming from Oklahoma that they'd put you up for free.

The Good News: They have a program with local hotels that I can get a room at a discount.

The Bad News: I discovered later from a passenger that had come in from Sacramento that the "discount" still amounted to $50 for a single and that it didn't include transportation.

The Good News: They didn't enforce the airport regulation that states that people not coming or going from a near flight must vacate the airport.

The Bad News: No fun.
America West Airlines
[Part 1]
[Part 2]
[Part 3]
[Part 4]
[Epilogue]