Wednesday, July 30, 2014

A bit of sfortuna
Everything was great when we set out for New York from Pisa Airport. We got a wheelchair for T right away and this sweet guy named Luca came with the chair. Who knew? Ask for a wheelchair and get one sweet guy free! So he got us to the front of all the lines and we were through security in no time. T and I were seriously thinking about taking turns pretending to break something everytime we have to take a plane from now on. We also received kind attention from two other Pisa airport employees and by the end I promised them I would write them a glowing review on their website. If anyone deserves a promotion, it is Luca Saviozzi, Nicoletta Ion, and some chick named Roberta who managed to make adult braces look fetching.

 Anyway, as you can imagine, our luck didn't hold out. When we got to New York after ten hours of a tedious flight, we were at the very back of the plane and so we asked the flight attendant to call ahead and make sure that the wheelchair would be waiting for us. The wheelchair came, but without the right kind of employee to push it. After half an hour the gate agents decided to start walking us towards Customs themselves. I had to pee the whole time. And I was thirsty. It was awkward. Anyway, we zooped to the head of the line through Customs as well, but then as we emerged and saw my mother frantically waving at us on the welcome line the gate agent told us that we had to go in the opposite direction because she had to put the wheelchair away. I signaled to my mom but she got lost on the way to us so I sent F to go get her while I waited with a wobbly T. Meanwhile the gate agent who had insisted on stowing one of our suitcases (mine) under the wheelchair took off with our bag unbeknownst to us.

Hi folks! Wait, I can't hug you because a Delta gate agent is leading us in the opposite direction. Bye. Sorry.

We didn't realize we were a bag short until after we got past the parking lot type traffic situation on the Van Wyck expressway and had already gotten the low down on how to use every imaginable type of household appliance from the lady whose house we were swapping with in Manhattan. We had to call JFK airport six times, once that night and five times the next day to find out that they refused to send us the bag. Once they actually hung up on F. And then F had to drive back to the airport at night to rescue my bag.

I bet you never get your bags left under a wheelchair, Kimye or Kanwim or whatever you famous people are calling yourselves these days.
 The hands free crutch that we were so excited about turned out to be less miraculous than we had hoped as it is a cumbersome piece of machinery and left a big bruise on T's thigh before she fully figured out how to walk on it. It is also s a challenge to wear if what you have packed are mostly dresses and skirts and T had to figure out an innovative oragami folding technique to, as Tim Gunn would say, "make it work." Unfortunately all that hopping around on her good leg has left her with a swollen ankle on the other side and so now there is no really good foot, which is super sad. But she's been a trooper.

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