I Feel like Sh*t V
Imagine, we boarded at 1300 and by the time we board another plane after two hours in the jet, it’s already 1500. Now there’s a technical hiccup. We are going to board a British Aerospace 146-200 which has two rows of seats with two seats each even though our earlier tickets were for a jet with two rows of one and the other of two seats each.
The clerk has to reschedule the seating using a BIC fine point pen as if we are at some god-forsaken coup de tat prone Afrikan banana republic with a junta or a monarch as a government. He sorts the mess, we get into the bus, now it’s us and the real 1530 passengers. The bus is humid and full and we are made to sit there for a cool twenty five minutes before it moves across the tarmac to the waiting plane.
When we get there one of the plane’s engines is undergoing service and some liquid is pouring out into a container. They have the whole tool box and they are fixing things. We board with worry and they are still working. After they are done the plane takes off.
On the air they serve us peanuts and juice on a Sunday afternoon. It’s fine that we are finally leaving OR Tambo Airport, time is now 1600. When we get to Nelspruit‘s
While waiting for my big suitcase at the conveyor belt I have a funny feeling. At the end after everybody had identified and taken their bags I notice that my suitcase is missing, with all my clothes and toiletries. I lay and official complaint, they write it down and assure me that my bag will fly in with the first plane on Monday morning and be delivered to me. I’m still waiting, in the same clothes I came in, no perfume, no toothbrush, no lotion, nothing – and smell like shit.