Five Operators and Me

I felt like the worst kind of person when I picked up my phone tonight. It was some 360 number that I was unaware of. Jeremy on the other end, asking if I had landed in Seattle yet.

This happened a few hours ago, when it was still Tuesday, July 21. It's now Wednesday, July 22 and the original plan that my mother and I carefully arranged online for was tomorrow, Thursday, July 23, depart Sioux Falls, SD to Seattle, WA to arrive back on August 18, the day before Symposium prep. meetings with Troy and Bethany began.

I thought Jeremy was kidding, and he thought I was kidding.

And then there was panic. A rush of anger, disbelief, sweat and blood to my brow. I felt like the worst kind of person and flipped open my email.

The itinerary online said Depart: Sioux Falls August 18, Return August 19.

We were both wrong. Actually, all three of us were wrong. I don't know how. I don't know how. I don't know what happened and, as I said (I hope kindly and patiently to the five operators) I don't really need to know what happened. What can we do from here? It's not about why/how the flight changed twice since whenever it was earlier this month that I booked it.

"Red Quail Dog Six Gopher Kansas." That's my confirmation number. I gave it four different times, and they always typed before responding "OK, Alvin Shim? What can I do for you?"

Gina, Andrew, Mike, Elaine and Cassidy. The last two are supervisors, and very courteous and straightforward. I don't want to say whether any of them passed their job on to another operator in another cubicle, though Mike did consider passing me back to online connection, which was Andrew's department, and I just wanted to say, to all of them, to please not waste any of our time.

One by one, they found me an alternate schedule, applied the flight change fee ($150) and calculated the difference in flight cost from the original reservation ($311.99, considerably more than the original ticket price), waived the change fee and discussed the various options I had from there. Cassidy felt that the best option would be to shop around online for a cheap(er) flight that would work into my schedule, assuring me that the credit I had with the original ticket would carry over so long as I gave them the correct numerals and informed the agent to document the "remarks on ticket" with the waiver code.

Mom says that maybe God doesn't want me to go to Washington. It should be noted that Mom doesn't want me to go either. Hani says maybe I should've asked God about it... which I did, but I think God and Mom talk more anyway.

The semester starts in one month. After the frenzy in Honduras, and rearranging the flight and summer schedule, building anticipation, having it broken and rebuild, I'm now sitting in the living room at 2 in the morning, trying to gather up the energy to search for another flight out... by this weekend hopefully. And if not, I'll have less than three weeks to (at least start to) make some sort of a living before the semester starts.

And Jeremy (and Elbert) drove out to Seattle to pick me up. And a 40-year-old pastor in New Jersey, with three kids under the age of 5, died of a heart attack. He was on the treadmill at the time. Isn't that ironic, and terrible? My family grew up with his apparently. I don't remember, but I probably would if I saw their faces. I did see my friend Poel's face tonight, under the light of the SV/East Campus parking lot. He and two dudes were launching water balloons at Sarah and I, practicing for when campus security showed up, but ran out before he actually did. (What a bunch of amateurs.) Poel's mom, as you may know, suffered an aneurysm last week and died Thursday morning. Mikey's little brother, the super intelligent and quiet (like all the Olthoff boys), will be in hospital for months more of healing, but he's doing better than anybody would have imagined. Sarah's home in Godfrey will be her former home officially very soon. Hani's mom doesn't want her to drink. Her dad just doesn't want anybody to pressure her. Scott and Margaret celebrated their two-year anniversary yesterday. Bree's car broke down on the way to Sioux Falls. Hani's broke down IN Sioux Falls. Caitlin said to yell, or cry, on the phone... maybe she really should have called for me.

What happened after I became the worst person ever? Bree decided she was too tired and finite to run about at midnight, so as Hani and I biked over to East Campus, we said a small prayer passing by her house. Sarah passed by in her car, cutting through that beautiful Sioux Center-in-the-summer air, and I relayed the evening to her, feeling like I was about to hurl the bike across the lot. I hate that anger and frustration bleeds over to unrelated people and irrelevant things.