The Conference Trip From Hell

Let me start this post by acknowledging that I'm lucky. I'm a person with access, opportunity, and mobility. I'm also lucky to be able to see so much of the world through my professional and personal travels. But, sometimes trips go well and sometimes they don't. I'm stuck in Newark for several hours right now, at 5:00am, so I'll take the opportunity to pen my story of woe.

This work trip involved traveling to San Francisco to attend and present some of my research at a conference for academic social workers. I travel a lot for work. Strangely, I've never had a conference take me to San Francisco. The week before the trip was stressful at work and home, with our dog going to the emergency vet twice in 36 hours and needing unplanned minor surgery. The federal government is shut down and I have some concerns about traveling during this time. My theory is that air traffic control workers might not be at their best when they're trying to figure out how to pay their mortgage without a paycheck. Then there was the blizzard that was going to blow into New England and might make it hard to get home. To compound this, as a chronically over-committed and overworked person, I had done nothing to prepare for my own research presentation at the conference, short of running some preliminary analyses eight months ago when I made the submission to the conference organization. But, I always say that you never know when opportunity will strike, so you show up, do your thing, and maybe something unexpected will happen. (Truer words were never said.) Plus, one of my students told me that Ghirardelli Chocolates is headquartered in San Francisco. So, I was off to the west coast, my third trip to California since August.

There were many early warnings that the trip wasn't going to go as hoped. My outbound flight was delayed. The lettuce in my Caesar salad at Logan airport was frozen. My battery was already dropping to the point where it likes to immediately die, and I accidentally tried to tip the waiter $50 instead of $5 on the electronic payment pad.

These were all signs. I should have gotten on the bus and gone back home.

I arrived on Thursday and made my way to the hotel. This was uneventful. My conference presentation still not done, I was exhausted with the time change. I went to bed and Friday proceeded pretty well until I learned that my flight back on Sunday had been cancelled by JetBlue because of the impending snow storm. That night, during the time that I had planned to prepare for my conference presentation, I spent several hours online and on the phone with JetBlue. Their phone lines were so overwhelmed that they simply told me to call back later and hung up. The airline had rescheduled me to fly back on Tuesday. Now, you might think it a good thing to be stuck in San Francisco, but I have a faculty candidate coming to campus for an interview on Tuesday and it's not the kind of thing that one can miss. So, I cancelled the flight back, after finding another flight on United through Newark, as a red eye, after the storm would be over. Yes, this is where I sit now. JetBlue's website promises not to charge fees for changing or canceling flights associated with the storm. I mean, really, I'm doing them a favor by being one fewer customer they have to deal with, right?


But, instead of showing their appreciation for me, they decided to charge me a $300 cancellation fee on a $340 ticket. I'm looking forward to using my time to fight this. It's not like I have uncompleted tasks in my life or anything. Even better, when I just checked my account while writing this, I see that my cancellation didn't go through, despite the evidence below, and JetBlue still has me scheduled for an outbound flight on Tuesday from San Francisco to Boston.


But, onward. What could go wrong? I would take the red eye and live through it, even though after a red eye flight I usually think that I am going to vomit or die or both. You've just gotta get the order right on that one.

So, I proceeded on to prepare my conference presentation. Normally, I am a person who is quite organized, actually, quite "anal" in the organization of the files on my computer. But, my statistical analyses for the conference presentation that I did eight months ago were no where to be found. I still haven't found them. Completely gone. So, on Friday night, after I purchased the United ticket, I got out the data set, had to do a bunch of data management and coding, and re-ran the analyses for Sunday morning's presentation.

Saturday afternoon presented an opportunity for me to play a little bit, though I should have been working somewhere, doing something, for sure. I decided to take the Big Bus tour. I am a sucker for a city tour. I love the narrated "hop on-hop off" tours, so I was off! I purchased my tickets near the conference hotel and was told that the full tour takes a bit over two hours and that if I walked roughly five blocks away, I'd find a stop for the Big Bus. Great! I headed out, feeling full of wonder, pleasure, and excitement....which all crashed when I saw the line to get on the bus. I waited through two bus cycles, 20 minutes apart. There was no way I was going to get on the next bus, it was clear. A staff person offered a few of us an opportunity to go to a different bus stop; the bus will be there in 1 minute. We would get on the tour at a different point, but we'd still be on the tour. But, it was actually a 15 minute wait. We all cursed. I downloaded the BigBus app and we watched as the bus finally made its way to us. We went about five stops. "We're at the end of our tour line! Anyone who would like to continue the tour can do so..." I was thinking that I really needed to pee and I was already starving, but I was fearful of getting off the bus and having to wait again to get back on. I resolved to stay on the bus. I had a good seat up top and I finally figured out that we needed headphones to hear the narration, something which the bus driver failed to tell us until my third stop. "If you want to continue with the tour, you'll need to exit the bus and get on the bus in front of us." Oh, the fun was just starting.

I exited the bus and saw the line to get on the new bus. Oy, vey. Do I get a Lyft back to the hotel and get some work done? I was getting nervous and quite irritable. Instead, I ducked into a 7-ll and got a snack. I went to the Big Bus headquarters next to the line of people and asked to use their rest room. No rest room. Of course not. And, the wait for the next bus? Twenty-five minutes. Of course. I proceeded to walk into an area called Fisherman's Wharf, which to me, looked like Old Orchard Beach or Hampton Beach on steroids, but it was filthy, and spotted with so many people who were homeless. I found a chocolate shop and saw the word Ghirardelli and breathed a sigh of relief. Alas, it was not a Ghirardelli shop, but it did have very good chocolate. Did they have a bathroom? No, of course not. I was directed across a dirty parking lot to to four porta potties about to fall into the ocean. There was urine on the floor and someone had set the urinal on fire at some point. I was loving this portion of my trip. I finally got on the tour bus again and then we proceeded to get stuck in traffic related to the Women's March in San Francisco.  We sat in traffic for a very long time in the downtown. During this entire trip, every time --every single time--I used the zipper on my jacket, it got stuck in the fabric. Given where I grew up, I will always be an L.L. Bean fan at heart, but whoa, do I ever wish that company would figure out how to make zippered-openings so that the fabric doesn't get stuck in them. We did eventually move along and we made it over the Gold Gate Bridge and back. I then got off and got a Lyft back to the hotel. My two-hour bus tour had become five. I was slightly exhausted. Thank goodness that evening I was able to prepare my presentation for the next morning without a hitch.

My presentation on Sunday morning went well. I sat down to listen to the presenters after me and looked at my phone, which was displaying a text message from United Airlines. My flight from Newark to Boston had been cancelled. Fantastic. Back to my hotel room...I had two hours to resolve this before I had to be packed and out of my hotel room. After a 45 minute wait, I got to speak to a United agent, who confirmed that if I went to the airport, I could fly to Newark. There were no other flights to Boston open. All cancelled or full. So, I just needed to get from Newark to Boston. I started to check Amtrak. There were spots on an 8:22am train, getting me to Boston at 1:18. Perfect. I tried to make the purchase and found that all seats were gone.



Then I remembered that C&J Bus runs from NYC to Portsmouth. I just needed to get from Newark to the Port Authority Bus Terminal. No problem. There's a shuttle that does that. So, C&J will solve my travel problems, again!

Dare I interject now, that while I'm sitting here in in Newark, I just heard United Airlines make the "last call for everyone going Boston on the 6:22am direct flight!" 

I check out of the hotel and spend the afternoon in the lobby, getting a modest amount of work done. I try to print my boarding pass at the hotel. It only prints blank pages. Of course. And, United won't let me check in online anyway, because the Newark-Boston flight has been cancelled. I proceed to the airport and I'll be damned if the San Francisco airport is more confusing than Logan. Wow. I finally find a ticket agent to help with my dilemma.

Me: The self-serve machines won't let me check in because half of my flight has been cancelled.
Agent: Yes, the flight from Newark to Boston.
Me: Yes, that's right. I don't actually want to fly from Newark to Boston anymore. I have arranged other transportation. So, I only need a boarding pass to Newark. Will that be possible?
Agent: Yes. The flight from Newark to Boston has been cancelled.
Me: Yes. That's right. I've arranged to take a bus when I get to Newark, so that's okay. I'm hoping that you can help me get a boarding pass for the flight to Newark.
Agent: Yes. Now, let's see, connecting flights to Boston.... <tippity-tappity on the keyboard>
Me: No, no I don't want a flight to Boston. I have to get back on Monday and there weren't any flights available I was told.
Agent: You don't want a flight to Boston? Here's one at 8:30am...
Me: Oh? The agent on the phone said that all flights were cancelled or full. That's also what I saw online, but if you see flights that are running, then I'm interested.
Agent: Okay, then. The 8:30? Oh, no. Cancelled. 9:45, cancelled. Oh, yes, that one, and then that one, and that one, too. Yes, no flights tomorrow.
Me: Ah-huh. Would it be possible to get the boarding pass to my flight to Newark?

Now I'm in Newark. We landed before 5am. I'm a person who is highly functional between 5:30am and 1am. I'm good for anything during those hours, but between 1am and 5:30am, if I am asked to be awake or to function in any way, I usually think that I'm going to vomit or die. Yep, we're back to that. So, once I had brushed my hair, my teeth, and washed my face, I settled down to write this blog post. The wifi won't work and my cell phone crashes any time I try to text someone.

In truth, some good things happened on this trip. I saw some colleagues who live too far away to see regularly. I met a new colleague who has connections to some of my Israeli colleagues and who I have arranged to see more regularly. I had good interest and suggestions on my research that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been at the conference. I got to eat some really good chocolate and I finally got that 7 week running injury loosened up enough that I was able to do some modest running. So, there's that.

I'm not home yet. I'm in Newark/NYC on one of the coldest days on earth, with only a fleece and a wind breaker. I mean, what could go wrong, right? Everyone cross your fingers for me. Maybe include your toes, too.



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