Well, this post isn't really a serious post or a scripture study type post, but instead more of a blast from the past. While I was listening to Amy's new song she did of I'll be home for Christmas, I got reminiscing of past Christmas experiences of anticipating being home with the fam for Christmas. In so doing, I was browsing on my U drive and came across a paper I wrote four years ago for my freshman year english class. I'm basically posting this to preserve this work of art. So, here it is:
Murphy’s Law
It all started early on the morning of my flight home for Christmas break. My sister, Sarah, and I had arrived early at the Salt Lake City Airport anticipating our flight home. After waiting in a line the size of a girl’s restroom line at halftime of a football game, we finally made it to the front of the Delta desk. After checking on our bags my sister leaned towards me and whispered, “Yes, we’re in!” Unfortunately she said this a little too loud. The airport was sure to pick me as one of the “random” people to be searched. I swear I was sent through a series of at least five different search stations. After being run through with the metal wand, I was sent on to the next station. During this procedure I was “patted down” by a security officer. This was one of the most awkward moments in my life. This security officer did not give just any pat down; he practically gave me a body massage. At the end of this pat down he even asked, “Do you work out?” For a moment I thought I was in the San Francisco Airport. After being sexually assaulted by this “security officer” I went through a couple more search procedures until I got to the final search where shoes are checked. First, the security guard waved that metal wand across my left tennis shoes and nothing happened. Then she waved it across the right shoe. When this happened the wand would not stop beeping. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was wondering what could possibly go wrong next. Did a terrorist plant some bomb in my sneaker? The security officer had to take my shoe and further examine it. She looked at my shoe for a few seconds and pulled out a metal screw from the bottom of my sneaker. She asked me if I knew why there was a screw stuck in my shoe and if there was something that I should tell them. Explaining to them that I did not know how a screw got in the bottom of my shoe they finally released me from their Nazi-like search.
After having my bags searched, being sexually assaulted and being perceived as a terrorist, I finally made it through security and to my terminal. Five minutes before boarding, Delta made an announcement that my flight was cancelled due to fog. Already ticked off, I had to stand in another long line to book a later flight home. Having finally gotten to the front of the line the travel agent informed me she was preparing to board people for another flight and she would not be able to help me. “That’s just great! You can help someone who has a flight leaving on time, but you can’t help me.” After giving the flight attendant an evil, disgusted stare, she sent me to another desk to get help. At this desk, my sister and I finally got assigned seats on a later flight home. I asked the lady at this counter, “Are we going to get any refunds or vouchers because of this inconvenience?” Without hesitation she replied, “There is nothing Delta can do in circumstances like this.”
When my sister and I finally arrived to our destination we headed down to baggage claim. Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse the unthinkable happened—Delta lost our luggage. You always hear about airlines loosing luggage and you see it in movies, but you never think that it could actually happen to you. My sister and I went to the Delta counter and gave them our home phone number and address. The last thing the Delta representative said to us was, “We will be in touch with you shortly when we receive your luggage.” This statement could not have been further from the truth. By shortly if she meant never, then I guess she was correct. The next day, Sunday, I still hadn’t heard anything from the airline company. I attempted to call Delta baggage claim, but they were either busy or closed. My parents insisted that I still go to church even though my church clothes were in my suitcase. My dad had me try on one of his smallest shirts and khakis that didn’t fit him anymore. The shirt was a little loose, but the khakis were like parachute pants. A belt could hardly hold these pants up. My dad then threw me another pair of slacks to try on. These were a little tight but I was still able to button them. Realizing that these could not possibly be my dad’s pants, I looked more closely at them and noticed they had no pockets. “These are mom’s pants. There’s no way I am wearing these to church!” I exclaimed. My dad looked at my outfit and trying not to laugh he responded, “It looks fine, buddy, no one will notice that they’re girl pants.” I took off the pants and went in search for some different slacks. I finally found some pants that I hadn’t worn since freshman year in high school. While at church, I tried hard to avoid as many people as possible. I didn’t want them to stare at my baggy shirt, high-waters, and sandals that I was wearing. I didn’t want to have to explain to them why I didn’t have my church clothes and how the airlines had lost my luggage.
Each day that went by made me realize how much more I needed my suitcase. Some days I drove three times to the airport to see if my bags had arrived. After the third day without my bags I called Delta customer service. Delta is so cheap that it hires people from India and trains them to answer phone calls. After talking to a young lady who claimed her name was Susan, I asked for information on where my bags were and when I was going to get them. I could barely understand a word she was speaking. In her broken English she said, “I can transfer you to Delta baggage claim for your questions.” I tried to explain to her that baggage claim was either closed or busy. I told her that I wanted my questions answered. “Lady, I have been going funky the past few days. I have been wearing the same draws for three days straight. Since I don’t have my bags, will Delta reimburse me if I go out and buy clothes and toiletries and what not?” I questioned. She explained to me that Delta could only guarantee up to twenty-five dollars a day. What type of person can buy clothes for twenty-five bucks? Did she expect me to go shop at Salvation Army? After this conversation I went to Target and tried to manage my money the best I could to purchase clothes and some other necessities.
The days grew longer and longer. “Could this be the day that my bags finally get here,” I questioned each morning. After eight trips back and forth from my home to the airport our luggage finally came—five days after the luggage was initially supposed to be in! Out of all the Delta representatives I talked to these past few days, not one person apologized for what had happened. How could an airline company not care about its customers? This is not just any typical airline—this is Delta. Its customers deserve better treatment than what I received. How can Delta take my money and not only inconvenience me by canceling my flight, but not give me a refund or an airplane voucher? All it did was book me on a flight with empty seats that was already scheduled to leave. That airplane was going to leave regardless of whether or not I was on that plane. What does the airline company do with the money I paid for my flight? It certainly did not go towards the fuel for the plane that got cancelled. Was Delta going to give me a refund? Would they even respond if I sent them a letter to complain?
Murphy’s Law states anything that can possibly go wrong, will go wrong. While many people dismiss Murphy’s Law as a silly urban myth, there’s no doubt in my mind that this law truly does exist. I happened to witness it firsthand. Right when you think that a circumstance can not get worse—it can.
Despite the little bitterness I still possess, looking back at this whole experience can only make me laugh. Oftentimes unfortunate events are thrown upon one’s path. It all depends upon a person’s attitude on how they can overcome these circumstances. If somebody is willing to be optimistic and have a good attitude, then just about everything will be possible to handle. Sometimes even the wrong things can end up funny in retrospect.
The ironic thing is I finally received my Eagle Scout Award during this vacation home. The motto of the Boy Scouts of America is “be prepared.” To think I could have been better off if I would have paid attention all those years in Scouts and applied its principles to my life. Instead I was too busy sharpening knives and playing with fire. Being prepared will not only be beneficial with traveling plans, but in all circumstances in life. It never hurts to be prepared and always have a backup plan; it can only help. From now on I will put myself in the position to always have another option in major situations. The next time I fly I’ll make sure I have a carry-on bag with a set of backup clothes and necessities.
So there it is, needless to say, I'm glad that I'll be home for Christmas!!!
(p.s. special thanks to Jessica and Scott for editing this paper-good times!)
