En que Corrie casi *no* va a Chile

Si, es cierto...

I'm completely exhausted and should be in bed right now since I haven't slept for more than 2 hours the last two nights, but I can't stop thinking about what the hell I've been through in the last 12+ hours of flying scamming nightmares.

If I ever said anything to refer you to, or try to get you to use, the services of SkyAuction.com, FORGIVE ME! I did not know better. I was a naive and hurried traveller looking for any easy way back to the country I've been yearning to return to these last two years. Well, take it from me, their deals are too good to be true. It just sucks that I flew all the way to New York to find out.

And had to buy another plane ticket (another $1000)--leaving tomorrow, from Laguardia (I hope I never see the International Terminal at JFK again), purchased from Orbitz, a known and trusted (right? right?) source for budget airfare. And of course I paid to get to the airport before even the crack of dawn (yes, the shuttle picked me up at 3.15 this morning) ($25 with tip) and took the subway back to Manhattan to a friend's after it all (transit=$9...luckily no lodging costs actually). I was in the airport all day, using the payphone and their internet (no less than $27), was malnourished (bagel? dried fruit bars from TJ's and seitan jerky from Rainbow...mmm vegan junkfood), breathed horrible dry airport air, and suffered acute distress (emotional and lung damage...priceless) all day as I thought my dream trip I've worked my ass off for was falling apart.

But don't I know myself better than that? I had two sleuths hot on the case all day, one in SF and one in Evanston, IL. Once I found out that the tickets I had "won" from SkyAuction had never actually been purchased from the airline (they had cancelled my reservations over a month ago without telling me), I parked myself by the payphone to get all I could get done, done. Yes yes my command of the language is brilliant after all of this, no?

Much like my life has been micromanaged (see, I've lost my sense of self in it all! passive voice? NO! I did it! I micromanaged myself and everyone in my life to the nth degree!) to make this trip possible...much like I was feeling the relief of that fading away as I daydreamed, blissed out, on the airport shuttle this morning...it all came back to me!

Get ahold of these suckers! Find out what happened! Make them find me another damn flight at the same cost I wanted my flight for (no more than $682) from JFK. Make them get me a damn hotel if it was required. I was thinking food vouchers, transportation vouchers...no, a personal bike caddy to where my dreamy bike messenger would be awaiting me. Oh shit, sorry, back to my task for the day.

Eh hem. Yes, well, the first task of getting ahold of them was the hardest part, since these wily jerks are no fools. They make themselves scarce, with barely any contact info on their website, so Mom sent an email to their "customer service" asking for(demanding?) an explanation for how they ruined my travel plans. These emails often take a few days to get a response.

Maybe this Brisilian airline has heard of them or has some information connecting my one lost reservation with this comany? No way...but the grumpy and entirely clueless agent did print me out a sheet with the cancelled reservation on it, which had this 212 number...

Running out of quarters, already breaking down, running to the bathroom for a melodramatic 6am sob...

Made a phone date to have Mom call me at my new headquarters after the airline's ticket sales office opened in Miama (8am) so we could check in about our investigations. TAM knew nothing of this, but they were eager to get me to Chile, so they reserved a spot for me on the flight that leaves now in about 40 minutes...no offense to them, but I don't even want to think about them any more, they're sullied in my brain with the scammers. (Note to self to call them again tomorrow and see if they can do anything about future reservations coming in from that 212 number. It can't be good for their business to be associated with these guys.)

You know, a side note about lessons learned. Two years ago, when I was robbed in Bolivia, I was so ashamed and feeling shitty about myself that I didn't even tell the complete story until a year later, to my therapist. Also in the two years since I came back, my return trip has been pregnant with my expectations for it--where I was going to be in my life, how I would handle being back there, what it would be like, if I could handle being alone. Well, I don't really think it was about Chile so much (that's a lot of pressure to put on a country--and especially much for a white woman to project on a Southern country, I think), but, well, it doesn't matter what it means any more. I'm not even in Chile yet, and I'm defending myself from attack of corporate robbery. And probably being way more helpful than my vague, shocked, and shameful dispatches from the altitudes of La Paz after the "cops" took me in a "taxi" to "investigate" me for drugs, fake money, and all the money I had in the world on my ATM cards.

But! Back to the day! In all its whirlwind excitement. Goodness, I haven't even told you about yesterday, and how great the trip was going once I was in the air for New York. (It was great. I met a lovely lovely woman on my flight and a delightful old grandpa artist cyclist guy and pulled myself together and enjoyed the comany of my fabulous comrades and hosts. I saw giant subway rats happily cavorting and ate terrible Indian food. Why do I have the worst luck with food in this City?)

Today! Gasps, tears, breath, calm, losing it, pulling it together, calm...WTF? I can't believe it...

That was the cycle of the day. But yes, crazy notes reveal the trauma, calling the bank, being transferred to all reaches of the bank, fighting to get ahold of a human being attached to the sleazeball comany, running off to the bathroom every 10 minutes (shocking, I know), lugging my two modest but heavy big red bags around every time (yikes! where's the masseuse?!) running around to all the airlines to see who could get me to South America today, praying that SkyAuction actually cared about its customers and would buy me tickets to get there. Worrying about my friends who were expecting me in at 2.30am Wednesday.

I dunno, that was the start of my trip. I finally got them to agree over the phone that their "accounting" department was going to refund me the cost of my trip, so I called Lichi at maybe 12.30 to see if I could come crash here while she was at work...navigated the trains back to Manhattan, ate a terrible burrito (I even forget to ask for no sour cream, who ever thought to put such a terrible substance on such a heavenly meal?) even AFTER I tried to gently ignore the squirming cockroach on the floor of the bathroom. I'm sorry I have to say that, I thought it was a big step for me to acknowledge that probably every restaurant I ever eat in has such issues, some are just better at hiding it...Which reminds me that we walked by Bourdain's restaurant last night. I thought about going in and ordering a fancy vegan meal just to have them puke in it for me...mmm, I love to revel in the Hizbullah-like-faction of vegetarianism that he hates so much.

Oh! And there's nothing like being in this city in the dead of winter to remind you, if you are the sensitive California type, that NO! you could never live in New York, at least never in the winter. It didn't feel so bad when I was high on bliss last night, in from SF and my happy flight, getting wamth and reiki from Mom in even colder Chicago, but it's a biting, miserable crispy deadening cold that makes this place unbearable, especially when you're dressed for a San Francisco winter (same as yr dressed for summers, I'm sure you know...layers!). Brrrrr!

But I digress. Stomache's in knots, I've filed my complaints with the Better Business Bureau, Consumer Affairs, and the innocent client who referred me to this evil company. Tomorrow, on to the bank! And Chile! Tonight....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz