Oh, you thought C.A.C.A. was done with me. You thought I'd be home by now, newly-showered, smiling, strutting the humid streets of New York, back in the Cit-ay. So did I. But no. I dutifully showed up at Honolulu International Airport EARLY for my flight home last night, having timed my 6 pm flight back from Maui perfectly with my 9 pm flight back to New York. Got to the check-in line 2 hours before my flight. Everything was going smashingly. Until I tried to check in. The machine wouldn't recognize my name. So I spoke with a C.A.C.A. representative.
And. It. Was. Like. Deja-Vu. All. Over. Again.
Is it possible to get the Nick Cage face twice in one week? Yes, it is. Bottom line: when you miss your outbound flight, as I did from Newark last week, you apparently become a "no show" for the return flight back. And since I apparently went home to Brooklyn after missing my initial flight, instead of doing what most people do: book another flight to Hawaii, I was dropped out of the system. I disappeared. I no longer existed. And then they sold my return ticket to someone else. So, when I showed up at C.A.C.A. check-in last night, all tired, sunburned, and happy to be back in my own bed in 9.5 hours, C.A.C.A. told me that the system was saying that I had "No Value." (That's not a joke, I made them show me the computer screen). I think that's a perfect metaphor for how C.A.C.A. treats people. Like they have No Value.
After another hour wait at the check-in counter, with ample arguing and indignation on my part, I was told that the flight I was supposed to be on was full, and I couldn't get on. My options, after this second broomstick-with-no-vaseline treatment from C.A.C.A., were the following:
1. Buy a full-fare business class ticket on the same 9 pm flight the next night for a mere $1600.00.
2. Buy a full-fare coach ticket on the same flight on standby for a mere $1200.00. Standby means I might not even make that flight if everyone showed up.
3. Buy a full-fare coach ticket on an 8:30 p.m. flight to SF the next night for a mere $1200.00, connecting to Newark, NJ after a 6 hour layover.
4. Commit hari-kari with the C.A.C.A. employee's pen.
None of these options were palatable, for obvious reasons. But they had me by the short and curlies. I just wanted to get home, and they were basically telling me that I was going to have to pay a full fare, no matter what, the fuckers. Needless to say, I wasn't going to give C.A.C.A. any more of my money. So I called my best buddy, online booking expert, and erst-while travel agent, K.B., to help me out of this mess. Mind you, it was 2:30 a.m. in New York. But I somehow knew she'd still be awake.
With a soothing tone that reduced my pissed off tirade from a Tazmanian Devil/apopleptic, to a Yosemite Sam/fucking pissed but able to be reasoned with, K.B. booked me on a Northwest flight that leaves at 5 pm today, connecting at Minneapolis and arriving at LaGuardia (no Newark, which is a plus) at 10:30 a.m. tomorrow morning. I've never been to Minnesota, so I'm really excited about seeing it from the airport. As if that were not enough, she also booked me a hotel room in Honolulu, which is where I am as I write this. I'm quite grateful to K.B. for bailing me out, and I think I may now owe her dinner at her favorite Denny's.
To the rest of you, do me a favor. Boycott fucking C.A.C.A.
