As I mentioned, Kevin’s got some training class he’s going to up in the Boston area…
I took him to the airport today.
He got his boarding passes. The flight plan was Norfolk to Pittsburg to Albany to Manchester, New Hampshire. (His class is actually in some podunky town in Massachusetts that I can never remember the name of.) Manchester is supposedly about 5 miles closer to said podunky town than Boston.
Kevin calls me at 7pm
“Hey hon,” he sounds completely and utterly disgusted. “Guess where I am.”
“Um? The airport?”
“Yeah.” A long pause. “In Bangor. Maine.” (I know where bangor is)
“They put me on the wrong flight. Boarding pass and number and everything was on my ticket and they sent me to Maine instead of Manchester.”
“They’re paying for me to take a taxi to Manchester.”
“How long is that going to take you?”
“About three or four hours.”
“The cabby says it happens a LOT.”