Archive for police

They Say Memory’s the First to Go…I Don’t Recall the Second

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on 30 November, 2009 by Thomas

I'm warm in my coat.

I don’t think I was going to post anything, but after arriving in HSV I figured I should would.  It’s that time of year when things start to get a bit cold so I’ve broken out the ol’ winter coat.  It’s a nice coat, a very nicecoat.  I first wore this black, wool, calf-length overcoat in February of ’08 when I went to Chicago to interview for a certain legacy carrier.  This coat does bang-up job of keeping me warm when I can see my breath, and though it is neither company-issue nor compliant with our uniform standards I wear it to work (Company, give me a coat that 1) keeps me warm and 2) looks good and I will wear it).

In addition to having this great coat, I have something else – namely a tendency to forget things that I’ve just remembered and told myself that I won’t forget again.  As we’re deplaning in HSV I remember that I have I my have coat hanging in our coat closet on the plane.  I think that I should probably take it out and put it on the crew bags that I’ve just gotten out, but then decide that I’ll remember it because I have to remember to get my food off ice.  I do remember the food (you see where my priorities lie), but not the coat.  My flying partner reminds me of my coat as we’re going down the escalator to the hotel.

People are on board cleaning the plane, and I’m banging on the door trying to get down the jetbridge to retrieve my prized? coat.  No one comes.  I find the phone list and call the station manager; he’s apparently gone home (of course he has; it’s 10:30pm).  I call the ticket counter, and the lady tells me she’ll be there in a bit after she finishes with a baggage issue.  A few minutes later, instead of an airline employee coming to get my coat I’m assisted by the airport policeman.  Thankfully, he actually does his job and thought it suspicious that someone would sit behind a gate counter and play on his phone when there were no flights going out.  He gets on the radio, moves, shakes, and 15 minutes later I have my coat.  I’ve pissed away almost an hour of a 13-hour layover, but luckily we stay in the airport hotel . . . in the airport.  Whatever . . . I got my coat back and didn’t have to wake up at 6:30 to try and convince the crew that it was actually on the plane.

Oh, and I meant for this to be a lot shorter.