My flight out of Indianapolis last night was delayed nearly 3 hours so we didn’t get into Philadelphia till 1 a.m., way too late to make my connection to upstate New York. Misery loves company and I had four partners, waiting around for a U.S. Airways rep to show up and figure out what we were doing for the night. They were: 1, a stocky older woman with a sensible gray tweed jacket and a serious hardback; 2, a high-tech guy from Ireland, 40, real smart, ironical, headed for Boston; 3, high-tech’s partner, a younger American guy with a slightly goofy sweet manner; 4, a tall 40-ish woman with long silver hair, small blue eyes in a pretty round face, worn jeans and sneakers.
The high tech guys kept marveling on the incompetence. The idea that no one from USAir anticipated us, was waiting for us–that just baffled the guy from Ireland and the other guy kept offering possible explanations. I sort of chimed in a lot in a humorous way. I was drained and not sure what to do, grab the 5:10 a.m. train out of Philly, go to my parents’ house in the Philly suburbs… Then the older woman somehow got attention before anyone else, maybe on account of age. I saw her walking around with a boarding pass on a flight to New Hampshire at 10 a.m. But then she had to wait for a hotel voucher, so we were still in the same boat.
Finally the rep arrived. She was about 35 and obviously educated, slender, cool, with art glasses and dark hair. I wondered what she was doing in this job. She gathered us in a circle and went through our situations. She was going to get us all vouchers when the tall silver-haired woman said she lived in Tacony, in Northeast Philadelphia, and wanted a cab ride home. We were all a little confused. The rep said, "I can’t pay for a cab ride."
The woman protested in a strident voice that public transportation was over for the evening, and she had just moved here 3 months ago, she didn’t have friends to call to come get her. So it was USAir’s problem. The rep kept her game face on, but she twice pulled out her cell phone and whispered to someone, coming up with one plan then another.
"I can’t get you a cab. We don’t do that. What we can do is give you a hotel room and you can get public transportation in the morning."
"But I don’t want a hotel room. I want to go home now. It’s late. I have an 8:30 meeting tomorrow morning."
Etc. The woman had a keening edge to her voice and seemed about to cry. Her eyes were red. The 8:30 business was transparently a lie. I stepped away, not to be a party to it. My wife and I would call the woman a Missing Parts Chicken. They used to sell chickens missing a part for less, in Minnesota supermarkets when I was living there in the 80s, and I’ve always used the expression since. Then I thought, well in torts law they say you take your victim as you find her; so maybe it was US Air’s problem. Then I wished that the woman would just get lost and pay for her own cab. Didn’t this fall into the category of Standard Travel Troubles?
The rep played for time by taking me to a computer and looking for morning flights for me. Another USAir employee, a hulking guy, came up and dealt with high-tech boys. I liked the rep and when she couldn’t get me on an early flight, I said, "Well I’m not going to cry. " She gave me a little conspiratorial smile. Finally I had a boarding pass and a voucher. The others were waiting for me; they’d called for a shuttle from the Ramada. We had to go downstairs. I noticed that the silver-haired woman was gone.
Then as we were leaving the concourse she came back in in tears. She’d been to baggage, couldn’t find her bag. The stocky New Hampshire woman went over to talk to her. I heard the high-tech guys call out "Good luck," as we sailed out into the night. I said "Good luck" over my shoulder, too.
We had to wait for ten minutes in the cold. I noticed that no one was talking about the silver-haired woman. It was an uncomfortable thing to talk about. Then the younger high-tech guy asked what had happened and the New Hampshire woman said she had given her $50. The silver-haired woman had explained that her cards didn’t work in the ATM in the airport because she’d just moved here. She was going to mail the money back to the New Hampshire woman. "Maybe I’ll get it back, maybe I won’t," the New Hampshire woman said with a shrug. "But you’ve got to help one another. I mean, if you don’t, what is life about?"
We all agreed and I looked down. In an instant my contempt for the silver-haired woman had vanished, and I only had contempt for myself.
