When I mention my mom’s 35 years of work at American
Airlines and the associated benefits that this allows me, it surely sounds
quite enviable. Quite frankly, it is
pretty awesome. I don’t have to commit
to any particular dates for flights and I generally pay a fantastically
discounted fare. I am damn lucky.
Now, consider the following...
Joni Mitchell’s ‘Both Sides Now’ is one of my favorite songs. Just as Joni explains about the clouds and
love and life, there is a less than lovely side to this world of a non-rev
passenger. Flying stand-by on a bad day
can be painful. I was feeling a bit of
that pain on Saturday morning.
Like the 700 grams of cheese in Linl Richards’ fridge
(see preface), I would really love to debrief the details of this. I will, however, exercise self-control and
simply say that I had to make approximately 8000 calls to Qantas and Jetstar
and wait in a ticket counter line three times in the space of 1.5 hour. I had to deal with some bitchy people, and I
had to irritate the hell out of Big Bad Betty.
Worst of all, I had to deal with my own raging anxiety.
I prevailed, though.
The end point of my journey made the raging anxiety and my frugal mental
calculations about phone credit and the cost of airport transfers all worth it.
On the origin of the flight:
I was in Byron Bay. It was the first
time in a long time that I was truly alone.
That was weird. Even weirder was
the fact that I had been told that Byron Bay was a laidback hippy town of New
Age bonanzas. I, however, did not get
that impression at all. I found (seemingly)
wealthy family-oriented Australian holidaymakers and young backpackers who were
hungry for sex and drugs (see Emily's similar experience). I may well have loved Byron if I was in
either of those camps. I wasn't, though. So, instead, I was lying on the beach,
wondering what all the hype was about and lamenting that I would not be
sleeping well for the next few days.
Then inspiration hit!
Bec and Nick! Get the hell out of
here, and go visit your friends now!
So, that is when my standby battle ensued at the airport.
I won the battle (though the war will continue throughout
the Greatest Hits Tour), and at the end I found Bec and Nick and their warm
greeting. We went for a swim in the
ocean baths and watched a bit of NBA while sipping on Negronis. We dined and wined. The next day was Nick’s birthday, and we
spent it in beautiful Nelson Bay (more beautiful, I must say, than Byron). I witnessed the incredible love and kindness
of Bec’s family and pondered the advantages of living in close proximity to
family. I had my own room with my own
bed in a beautiful house with two funny dogs.
And, I experienced again the comfort and ease and joy that goes along
with the presence of wonderful friends.
When I am lucky in the standby flying experience, it feels
like the universe is conspiring to support my travels. When I am unlucky in the standby flying
experience, I end up in a very complicated mental conversation about whether or
not I am meant to be making the trip at all. From my recent experience, I have determined that there is nothing divine about standby flights or the moments of
luck or lack thereof. Whether the trip
is easy or hard, I inevitably find something divine at the other end,
especially when the destination involves dear friends.
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