DEAR BRITISH AIRWAYS: I WANT 48 HRS OF MY LIFE BACK

Ok, ok, even writing the title of this post, I acknowledge that British Airways couldn’t necessarily control the traffic halting blizzard that shut down the Heathrow airport.  HOWEVER, I will take a moment to express my dismay at the lack of professionalism displayed by the British Airways representatives at the Chicago airport.  Because of a bustling, stiffnecked, hen of a woman, I spent countless hours playing musical queues.  When I eventually made it to the front of the line, she’d shift me to the back of another queue system she had just devised.  She had all the intention of Europe, but all the common sense of New Mexico.  Thankfully enough, after about seven hours of standing in my final queue, I stood for another hour while BA rescheduled my flight.  I will say that the BA have wonderful hookups- they set me up in the airport Hilton, and you’d better believe I put a hell of a lot of room service on their account.  While I waited for it, I had a fabulous soak in the bath until my meals came.  Yes, I said mealS.   ordered three of them.  Was it petty of me to charge three of the most expensive dishes to the British Airways’ bill?  Yes.  Did I eat it all? No.  Did I touch the side dish of caviar that came with it?  NO.  Cue most satisfying nights sleep of my life.

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2 comments

  1. Clockwork Apple · · Reply

    Que? Defined by thefreedictionary.com as a half farthing. Defined by Wikipedia as Quebec: informal abbreviation [citation needed].

    I thought you were good at English Hollie- your misspelling of queue disappoints me.

  2. Clockwork Apple · · Reply

    And my grammar sucks, I know. But I’m distracted by the snow as it falls on your website, so that’s acceptable.

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