Et Tu, Jet Blue? Et Tu?

This is bullshit. I must say that I expect this kind of bullshit from American Airlines. Hell, I expect it from United. But from you, Jet Blue? Say it isn’t so!

I had to fly down to Miami this weekend. For a funeral. It was the first time since I had kids that I flew unencumbered. Alone. With only my computer and a small carry-on. Sweet liberty! My amazement with the ease of it all lasted just up to the point when my flight was delayed. For two hours. Ok, no big deal. Lucky for you, as I already mentioned, I was sans kids. However I do have a few bones to pick with you, Jet Blue.

1. I was on my way to a fucking FUNERAL!!! Get it together, people! When one has grieving to do, one doesn’t want to sit around and wait for the damned plane to leave the fucking runway with the fucking captain making fucking jokes every ten fucking minutes to lighten the fucking mood.

2. If you’re going to be shitty enough to delay a flight, have the decency to delay it IN THE AIRPORT where there are real bathrooms and pizza, not on the tarmac where claustrophobia, people’s annoying cell phone conversations and faux happy flight attendants maniacally brandishing snack-sized bags of blue potato chips merge to create a literal hell on wheels.

3. If you are stupid enough to a) get in the way of a griever and to b) do it by forcing me to sit on a stationary plane, LET ME USE THE ELECTRONIC DEVICES OF MY CHOICE! HOW CAN I BE ENDANGERING THE LIVES OF THE OTHER PASSENGERS WHEN WE’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE?

I suppose I should thank you for getting me safely to Ft. Lauderdale, even though I arrived two hours late and had to spend another hour in the car driving down to Miami. I know it’s important to recognize the little things. And because you did get me there safely, I was finally able to grieve. Along with my parents, who live in Miami, my brother, who flew in from Chicago, and my sister, who flew in from Thailand. Yes. She lives in Thailand. (We’ll talk about that another time…)

And then, all of a sudden, it was Sunday. Time to go home. And my brother, who flew in from Chicago, and my sister, who flew in from Thailand just the night before, were kind enough to spend an hour driving me back up to Ft. Lauderdale to catch the return leg of my flight. That ironically ended up being delayed. For two hours. I mean, it’s not like I had anything better to do. It’s not like I would have wanted to, say, spend more time with my family. OOHH NOOO, Jet Blue. I was absolutely thrilled to hand over to you yet another two hour chunk of my life. Anything I can do. Really. It's my pleasure.

Futhermore, you should know, that when I eventually did get on the damned plane, the fucking TVs in rows 1-5 were out of order. And guess what? I was in row 5. Silly, Jet Blue. I fly your airline BECAUSE of the TVs. In case there was any confusion, that’s your draw, dudes. It's not the leather seats or the extra special leg room you sell for $15 above and beyond the ticket price. And, sadly, broken, snowy TVs don’t have quite the same marketing cache. But don’t fret. Your flight attendants gave me a complimentary alcoholic beverage. You know, to take the edge off. Fuckers.

And now, because of “the weather” which is “an act of nature” that the airlines “have no control over,” I’ll get home at 1am. (If I can find my car in the parking lot, that is.) Only to wake up at 6am to take care of my two beautiful children whom I’ve been away from for the past two days because I can’t go to work like I’m supposed to because my childcare, who was my mom, is grieving. In Miami. So thanks a fucking lot, Jet Blue. And congratulations. You’ve made it to the top of my Shit List.

Kisses,
Kami