Now it's morning. I've slept and eaten my complimentary breakfast (which was tasty but upset my stomach). I still haven't brushed my teeth because my hotel didn't offer complimentary toothpaste. I rubbed conditioner on my aforementioned raw thighs because they also didn't provide lotion and I'm wearing yesterday's smelly life jacket clothes. I also found some $10 flip flops at the hotel gift shop and have since freed the blisters masquerading as my feet from Nike's painful grip. I'm sitting outside, waiting on the bus that's supposed to take us to the airport. It's supposed to come at 9. The crazy lady I sat with on the bus last night said something about there being 3 flights to BsAs--I'd better be on the first flight, especially considering they tried to bump me yesterday. If need be, I'll make a big old-fashioned American scene.
I debated getting a taxi and beating the buses to the airport but there aren't any taxis around. If one pulls up, I'll know it's meant to be. I do hate the idea of paying more money in a situation that's out of my control, but let's face it, I've been paying all night. You know, this hotel is pretty nice...I wish I could enjoy it.
I gave in and got a taxi. So there went another $25 of my money. I arrived at the airport and got in line. Someone came up and told the people behind me that their flight was delayed. I laughed and said, "well, at least it's not cancelled. The flight last night was cancelled and I've been stuck here." I waited through the line and was told that the flight would be boarding at 12:30--so I would get to spend another 3 hours in the airport (which is fun because they've got all kinds of stuff like...chairs). I dropped a significant amount of change at the airport (but did get some great gifts for people...including myself).
Before I knew it, we were going through the same old song and dance of a delay. The flight kept getting pushed back later and later. I went to the counter (waited through the line) and asked them what was up. The claimed that the flight was "coming". "So is Christmas, the Apocalypse, and death," I said, "what's coming now?" Basically these people didn't have to tell me anything. That's when I texted Amy Jo and asked her if she thought I could go demand money. She said it was worth a shot, so I went back downstairs and waited through the line all over again.
"Hi." I said, "Can I have some money?" The agent was rightfully perplexed. "Do you want to cancel your flight?" she asked me. "Oh no way. I want the hell out of here but you've stolen 16 hours of my life and I think you should give me money," I responded. That's when she told me that I could only get my money back if I cancelled my flight but our flight was coming. The next part of the story involves me marching over to the competing airline's ticket counter and asking if they had any flights because I needed to get out of here before I punched someone.
We finally got on a plane. I left that airport at 1:30 p.m. Only 16 hours after I was supposed to leave. Come to find out that Aerolineas Argentina is owned by the government and that's why they can do whatever they want without having to explain themselves. I've determined to open my own airline in Argentina because the people need reliable air transport!