Dec 2010, New York is hit by the worst snow storms it has seen in over a decade. Dec 27th 2010, the Unstoppable (by name and by nature) Showcase team fly to New York.
Our flight was at midday. At 9am we were still unable to contact the company providing all our camera equipment. They decided not to open, what with it being ʻChristmasʼ and all. Brilliant. We had a flight to catch, we had 3 interviews lined up in NYC, we had a trip to the City that never sleeps for New Year and a hotel room booked and paid for by Unstoppable… we had a flip cam. We panicked. After calling pretty much EVERY equipment hire firm in and around London we managed to get our mitts on a kit and tripod. Problem 1, solved. Next stop, Heathrow.
The flight was relatively unaffected by the blizzards that in previous weeks had brought Terminal 5 to a stand still. We decided to spend some Christmas money on Champagne to kick off the trip and as the stress of the morning transcended into excitement we were ready for our NY Showcase adventure. ʻAdventureʼ being the operative word.
The first leg of the trip took us to Washington DC, where we were to catch a late night connection to JFK. The connection was cancelled. Our bags were missing. Producer Ros swore… a lot. I went quiet, then joined the queue for Customer Service.
My thoughts went a little along the lines of ʻI hope we get the lady on the left, she looks friendly, sheʼll help us get to New York. We might get a free hotel for the night. Maybe if I smile lots that will help, if not, iʼll cry, crying worksʼ.
I canʼt be sure, but I imagine Producer Rosʼs thoughts were more like ʻThis is bullshit, weʼve paid for this flight, I bet they ask for more money, those Customer Service ladyʼs donʼt appear to be offering a service at all, I hate this airport, I hate this airline, Fuck it, send me back to Londonʼ.
It turns out, Producer Ros was right. Airlines, during ʻacts of Godʼ (that means snow) take responsibility for nothing. The Customer Service lady offered the following…
CSL: Ignores the existence of me stood directly in front of her and discusses nail polish with her colleague.
Me: Excuse me, please
CSL: Discusses in detail the shade of her manicure
Me: Looks to Producer Ros in desperation for help Producer
Ros: EXCUSE ME, HI, OUR FLIGHTS BEEN CANCELLED
CSL: Where you trying to get to Me: New York
CSL: Good luck with that Producer Ros: Leaves the desk…
Me: Ermmm so, can you help us with that? are you transferring us onto the next flight?
CSL: No, but you can pay for the next flight
Me: But we already paid to get to NY
CSL: You were disrupted by an act of God
Me: (thinking, If I tell her I donʼt believe in God will that make a difference?) Well how much would 2 flights be?…… I donʼt recall the exact amount she quoted but it was around a squillion million dollars.
CSL: So Iʼll book you onto the next flight which is via Japan (ok so thats probably a little exaggerated), it leaves in 12 hours so youʼll have to find a seat and sleep in the airport tonight.
Me: (wondering if this is the point where tears will work, although Iʼve already suspected crying may not have an affect on this HEARTLESS woman!) I donʼt have a squillion million dollars Iʼm afraid. Is there any other way from Washington to NY, tonight, that wonʼt require a re mortgage?
CSL: No
Me: A bus?
CSL: Oh yea you can probably get a bus
Me: Brilliant, where from?
CSL: The bus station
ME: (NO SHIT) Where is that? Do the buses run all night?
CSL: You can get a bus outside, I donʼt know which, all the way downtown, to the city bus station but I think they will have stopped now.
I would like to just like to remind you all at this point that this ladyʼs job is ʻCustomer Service Advisorʼ. What. a. joke.
ME: Ok so youʼre telling me that we can either, pay you millions of dollars to sleep in an airport for 12 hours then board a plane headed to a destination we have already paid to reach. OR. We can get on a bus, downtown, in a strange city, on the other side of the world, in the middle of the night, to discover that, actually, the buses are no longer running. Ermmmmm so, is there a third option? And also our bags are missing, they have been checked onto our none existent flight to NY.
All this is being said as I frantically scan the airport lounge for Producer Ros to come to my rescue, I need her ability to be scary angry and get some sort of help from this woman whoʼs job it is to, well, help.
The NY City Showcase
CSL: There may be a taxi service running? As for your bags, youʼll have to check with baggage control down by the conveyor belts. Those are your options, would you like me to book you onto that flight?
ME: No, do you have the taxi number
CSL: No
Me: Walk off. Cry. Look for Producer Ros.
I found Ros, she was kicking the shit out of a vending machine. Thats a lie. But she was scanning departure boards for a flight back to london.
After persuading Producer Ros that Washington was only a few miles from NY, that we were practically there and that we should perhaps look at this situation as an adventure rather than a pain in the arse, we headed down to the luggage claim.
We queued, patiently, mostly in silence, for the baggage claim counter. Where one man, one very old, slow, moronic man was offering ʻhelpʼ. I decided maybe Ros should handle this one as it would seem I canʼt even get service out of a woman whoʼs sole purpose is to offer service.
ROS: Hi, our bags have been checked onto the cancelled New York flight, weʼd like them back please.
MORON MAN: Theyʼll be put onto the next flight. ROS: But weʼre not flying to NY anymore MORON MAN: How are you getting there then?
ROS: Probably the Bus
MORON MAN: Theyʼll be put on the bus
ROS: But we donʼt even know which bus weʼre getting yet, so how will you know which bus to put our luggage on
MORON MAN: Weʼll know ROS: Looks at me with the ʻIʼm so angry, Iʼm fantasising about sticking my finger in this
mans beady little eyeʼ and walks off.
ME: The thing is, we donʼt know how weʼre getting to NY yet, we would just like our bags with us before we figure that out. Shall I give you our names so you could at least track down where abouts in the airport they are?
MORON MAN: Ok
ME: Give him our names
MORON MAN: Checks computer…. theyʼre on the 00:10 to New York
ME: THAT. FLIGHT. IS. CANCELLED
MORON MAN: Do not raise your voice at me maʼam
ME: Sorry, but that is the flight we are meant to be on. Itʼs cancelled.
MORON MAN: Then your bags are on the flight replacement transfer bus.
ME: Thereʼs a flight replacement transfer bus?
MORON MAN: Yes
ME: Well brilliant, no one told us this, where do we catch it from?
MORON MAN: Itʼs only for luggage.
ME: WHAT????? SO YOUʼRE TELLING ME THAT THERE ARE HUNDREDS OF STRANDED PASSENGERS HERE, TRYING TO….
MORON MAN: Maʼam if you continue to raise your voice I am going to have to ask you to leave the desk and calm down.
ME: Whispering, in an insane, shaking with frustration kind of way. Please. Explain to me, why is there a bus, being driven from here, to NY, tonight, full of luggage belonging to passengers stranded in Washington, with as of yet, no means of reaching New York.
MORON MAN: Itʼs our policy
ME: Youʼre lying
MORON MAN: Do not tell me I am lying Maʼam
ME: You must be, thats the stupidest thing I ever heard
MORON MAN: Do not call me stupid Maʼam
ME: I JUST WANT OUR BAGS
MORON MAN: Leave the desk, you are behaving aggressively and I am no longer obliged to help you.
ME: Stomp off, looking for Ros, with a face of thunder. This adventure just turned into a pain in the arse.
I skulked over to Producer Ros. She was slumped on the camera bag watching the empty luggage carousel go round, and round, and round. I sat on the floor.
ROS: So where are the bags ME: Donʼt know ROS: But… ME: He doesnʼt know
The NY City Showcase
ROS: But…
ME: Heʼs a nob
Silence.
And then, another ʻact of Godʼ occured. One after the other our suitcases slowly made there way around the carousel. I screamed. Ros jumped up. We scrambled towards the belt, grabbed the bags, flung them on the floor and embraced, in a way reminiscent of the opening scene of Love Actually. Next up, finding our way to NY, at this point I was willing to hitch hike.
As we made our way out of the terminal I over heard a conversation between a group of friends. They were stranded too. They were discussing whether or not a hundred dollars each for a mini bus to NY was expensive. I had $200 in my purse, I wanted in.
It was 10 people per mini bus, $100 per person. There were 2 mini buses available and about 25 people debating the cost. Iʼd past the point of negotiation and so manhandled my way through the crowd, reached the counter, shoved $200 at the man, wrote down our names and promptly announced that we needed 8 more people for the bus and we were leaving, now…. please!
Ten minutes later I was sat in the boot of a rusty, cold, damp, not fit for public use mini van. I couldnʼt have been happier. Producer Ros, cleverly, perched upfront, next to the driver and his heater. I was sharing a seat with a couple from New Jersey, theyʼd just returned from Honeymooning in Hawaii, they snogged, a lot. We were also sharing the van with some loud business man from ʻThe Cityʼ … his name was Billy Big Balls if I remember correctly. Everyone else was asleep.
When I opened my eyes a few hours later we were approaching the bright lights of New York. NEW BLEEDIN YORK! Weʼd made it, we were there, I giggled to myself and the giddy excited feeling came back! I pulled out the flip cam and documented our arrival…….
Next time…
I shall be telling all about the NY based B-Boy champ Sammy ʻSamoʼ Soto. To see his Unstoppable Showcase visit ʻNoelClarkeTVʼ on Youtube. The latest Showcase can been seen on www.noelclarkeofficial.com
