As the Radar Turns

I filmed the lavatory servicing video for all US Airways Employees, we filmed in TPA and CLT.

I wrote the video, starred in it and wrote all the training manuals on every type of plane we flew.
 
Shannon,

I haven't seen you post in awhile, I figured you left Wendy's or found a whole new outlook about being at second drive-through window... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2-kWXlKTUA

So Grooves Jester.
LOL - - is it time to get the party started again? Well I aim to please.
I threw a fit of monumental portions at the drive thru a few weeks back, and I am still working really hard to see if things can't change a little, at least in my local Wendy's. So, for the time being, I will stay at the #2 window. nothing like throwing nuggets at people when you're in one of those moods. LOOKOUT!!
 
THE HEAVIEST DISCLAIMERED BLOG I HAVE EVER WRITTEN.
I am going to post this with the original disclaimers after this, but I just have to tell you that besides the fact that I work at Wendy's , this was way way before I was ever a posting gnome and got to know any of my fabulous rampers through the number two window. So please do not get offended at me. Also, the number two window is the international window at Wendy's and this is actually when I was at the number one window which is considered the domestic window. This whas before I moved over to the #2 window. And I love my rampers. I had limited exposure to them back then. Please forgive me, rampies, I love you and will give you free frosties forever if you aren't mad that I'm posting some blog that I didnt write about some airline that doesn't exist.

The end. Everything after this is a couple of years old. But funny.
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I got my BS degree last night!!! HIGHFIVE!!
Current mood: cranky


I would just like to disclaim to anyone at some airline I may or may not be an employee of, that the following story is totally made up, never happened, and anyone, specifically in the (corporate communications department) who is reading this should know by now that I lie alot and exaggerate. So if it looks like I'm talking trash about my airline, I would like to point out that the following story is about a fictional airline called BSAir. It's a really common mistake and I'm not going to laugh at you for making it. LIES. These are all lies.

Ok, so I slept on this and I thought I wouldn't be as mad, but yeah, I'm still pissed.

My husband has never once told me I needed to blog, but last night he was laughing at me and going YOU HAVE TO GO UPSTAIRS AND BLOG THIS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE YOURE MAD AND YOURE FUNNY WHEN YOURE MAD!

Why? Because some mo effing boo sheee happened to me last night. Do you love how I totally just cussed without cussing? I'm getting so wise in my years. Either that or just weird. Does it matter, I ask? Of course not!! Weirdness makes awesomely funny blogs. If you don't believe me, just ask the 1400 people that hit my blog last week when I didn't even post anything . This is also why I have to disclaim everything I say. I could just make it private, but then I'd be shutting out the vast majority of blog rubberneckers, and I'd hate to incite a riot.

So, without further doodoo, I give to you my totally fictional made up story of absolutely effing retardedness that went on at BooSheeAir. Go on. Say BooShee like you're a gangster. It's fun. Don't forget to throw your arm out and point to the floor in frustration while you say it.

I was sent to a gate to check in and board passengers on a flight going to Podunk. The flight coming was from Hicksville and all of the passengers had gotten off the airplane except for one. He was standing at the door of the aircraft waiting for his gate checked bag. Obviously the ramp was done unloading bags because they had returned to their usual job of picking their noses and smoking cigarettes working really hard and loading the plane to ensure ontime departures. All the strollers had been brought up that had the same gate check tags, and after verifying that no more bags were anywhere near the plane, I informed him , per the supervisor, that he'd need to make a bag claim in BFE where his final destination is.

This guy went batcrap crazy on me. I'm not even exaggerating. Think Ben Stiller in "Meet the Parents" when he doesn't want to give up his bag. Minus the bomb-b-b-b-bomb song. He even made fun of the sticks in my hair. Well, not really, but I loved that part.

The supervisor assured the passenger that it was probably in baggage claim and sent me down to go find it, sending the passenger to the connecting gate. He also promised the passenger that if I found it, I'd stay with it to ensure it got loaded on said plane to BFE.

Passenger gives us the "Yeah effing right " look and goes on to his gate shaking his head. I know what he's thinking. (that's effing BOOSHEEE!!!)

That's the company motto, by the way.

So I go down to the baggage room, it's a really, really long walk and I try to locate the bags before they're loaded on the carousel for the passengers. I can't seem to find them, so I walk out to the carousel.

There are like a kajillion passengers standing around the carousel with like six bags going around and around, so when I walk out in my BSAir attire, I get mauled by the passengers like I'm the only peanut butter sandwich in CareBear land right after the snow melted and hibernation is over

WHERE'S MY BAG??!! WHERE ARE THE PODUNKVILLE BAGS? I HATE YOU!! THATS EFFING BOOOSHEEEEE!!!

Holy crap!!

"Yeah, I don't know I'm a flight attendant." I say helplessly. (where is the easy button? BANG!)

They all back off me. "oh." they say.

I retreat back to the employees only side of the bagroom and disappear behind the doors to try and locate this stupid bag but I cant figure out where the bags come from BEFORE they are put on the carousel.

So, I walk over to this big scary ramp lady with really short hair who looked like she wanted to eat me for lunch. She was all sweaty and throwing bags and ignored me even though I knew she knew I was there.

I said excuse me.

Nothing.

Hellooo?

Nothing.

So I go over and tap her. She looks at me like I just took away her twinkie, donut, cake factory, etc.

"Sorry. Where do the bags come from before they're loaded onto the carousel?" (I meant, where are they loaded ONTO the carousel)

"They, like, totally come from the AIRPLANE!!" she said, with a big cheesy grin and continued to throw bags from a cart onto a large belt system.

I know right?? Oh.no.she.did-ent.

except she did. And now she's ignoring me again.

So I ask more specifically "Yeeahh.....got that. Where is the drop point prior to them leaving the secure area?"

She tells me I can't go there and that the bag will be on the belt if it's coming from an inbound plane and to just go outside where I belong.

UGH. I had a smart-a response all programmed, but I didn't want to waste my breath, so I just went back outside and prepared for the onslaught of passengers whose bags never made it.

Miraculously, the first bag I see is the bag that has the gate valet tag on it. YES!!

I snatch up the bag and take it back into the bagroom, where the Dark Princess of Aholeness is sneering at me. She tells me I have to take it to TSA to be screened. I know this.

I start to walk it over and she says "NO PUT IT ON THE BELT!" and points at a belt overflowing with bags.

Yeah, that bag's never gonna make it....no, Im gonna take it myself.

She grabs the bag and says, I'll take it.

Oh.No.She--yeahshedid.

Trying to control my temper and not unleash the fantastical art of judo-chop on her, I grab the bag off the belt that she has just tossed it on and tell her, NO, I'm walking it over because it's a tight connection.

"I have 400 other bags that are on tight connections so I'm not really concerned about your ONE." and reaches out to snatch the bag back like it was a double whopper with whipped cream.

"Yeah, well when your 400 people are actually cussing at you directly about the whearabouts of these bags, then you might worry, but since you don't, I'll thank you to mind your business and continue your bag losing, or whatever it is you do."

Oh.Yeah.I.Did. ZING!!

She gets angry and a supervisor comes over and I drag the bag over to the TSA screening point and ask the guy to please put this bag on ahead of the others.

Supervisor and fat ramp crazylady say NO she can't do that.

I give TSA guy puppy eyes and he says he doesn't mind.

YESS!! Shannon(not me) 1, RampBastards 0

They retreat and go back to their corner while I push the bag through the x ray.

I follow it to the other end and it comes off the scanner and gets stuck into yet another pile. The "needs to be opened and searched" pile.

DAMMIT!!

At this point, Im about to raise the white flag and just stay with the bag so that I can at least get it on the flight tomorrow (the flight leaves in 10 mins, and it's probably too late now)

The lady running the search table is big and scary , but the black version of the ramp lady and with more attitude. I am not even going to fight with her, but then the guy that slid my bag through gave her chocolate and asked her to please search this bag first.

She glared at me and said "anything for you!" to the TSA guy and proceeds to eat the chocolate and throw everything around in the bag in the most half a$$ed search I've ever seen.

I don't care though because now making the flight is again do able.

Note to self: keep chocolate handy at all times and try really hard not to eat it, so that when my disarming charm and devastating good looks don't work, apparently tasty snacks do just fine.

Home free!!

I drag the bag in the general direction of the passenger's flight, but Ramperella is in my way and she's trying to take the bag.

It doesn't smell like a pastry. What the crap is her deal?

Now she's saying that I can't handle the bag because its in their union contract.

What, so I can't pick up the slack on a job that you say is yours but you don't want to do, therefore making it impossible for anything to get done?

Alltogther now - - that's effing booshee!!

Whatever, dude, Im taking the bag. I ignore her and drag the bag over to the express side because the bag is going on BSAir Express. In the airline industry, Express means "Probably Tomorrow" so the flight is actually on a ten minute delay. I decide to give the bag to them and they're standing there scratching their heads and looking at the tag. I tell them where it needs to go, put it on the car for them and they drive off with it.

I get a very uneasy feeling and think that maybe I should have walked it over to the gate myself. It was a LONG way on the ramp though. I decide to double back and go to the gate to tell the passenger I found his bag. He's at the gate waiting, still pissed off and I tell him I've located the bag.

"I'll believe it when I see it." he says.

What an effing killjoy!! I thought he would be happy!! Even though secretly i'm thinking the same thing...

I don't see the bag, I dont see the bag, and I don't see the bag. CRAP!!

I go outside and ask where it is. No bag.

I catch a glimpse of the guy I gave it to and ask him and he points to another airplane whose cargo door is shut. NOOO!!!!

I run over to it, and convince them to open the cargo door and get the bag out because now, the guy is throwing a fit on his airplane and won't sit down til he sees his bag. Two flights are successfully delayed so far over this bag. GO TEAM!!

I get the bag after begging and threatening them with my fists of fury (which are actually illegal in sixteen states) and drag it over to the plane. I set the bag down IN FRONT of the cargo door and walk off.

I start talking to a supervisor, recapping the whole thing, when the door to the terminal opens from outside and the bag gets tossed in.

WHATTHE?????

Oh great. Now the bag has left the secure area and technically needs to be rescreened. Thank GOD I kicked it back out before anyone realized it. The passenger saw, though and is raising cain on the plane again and has now gotten himself thrown off by the crew.

He comes back inside. I explain to the supervisors what has happened and they agree to let him back on if he calms down. The bag is back outside and he's inside. He is such a stubborn jerk that he decides now he's just going to drive. The pushover supervisor refunds his ticket so he can get a rental. But they won't bring his bag in. It's going back to baggage and he can pick it up there. Where I rescued it from.

(all together now!! let's hear the company motto......)

He tells me thanks for nothing ( company motto again ) and I return upstairs, deflated, weary, pissed, whatever to go clock out because at least it's time to leave and my supervisor wants to know where the hell I was for my flight to Podunk. It went out late because the other agents needed my help and i was not there. What took so long???

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? (company motto)

I tell him what I've been through and he informs me that I need to work on my aggressive attitude that seems to be a problem lately. (company motto)

I tell him I only did it because he TOLD me to STAY with the bag.

He tells me he only said that to get the guy to shut up and I should have just left it on the belt with Ramperella, and by the way, he doesnt appreciate my flippant disregard to rules down there. (company motto)

I didn't get officially written up or anything, but I got a nice little verbal beatdown to which I could say nothing except recite the company motto over and over again in my head til I got home and told my husband who urged me to write this blog for you all to share.

The blog that is totally untrue......or is it? Muuhahahahahahahahhaa (slamming head into wall)

MEout.
 
I can't really add anything to this topic anymore without being really careful because some ramp parking lot idiot thought it would be funny to forward things around on the company email and stir up some drama for me. Good thing at Wendy's they don't fire me for this kind of thing because it's all in good fun and none of it is the truth anyway (see all disclaimers) . This kind of thing really doesn't need to be forwarded around on company email because many of the management at Wendy's lacks the sense of humor required to appreciate a thread like this. So, to you, Parking Lot agent, please at least talk to me first before you start an email assault, or I'll cram my gnome hat up your tailpipe.