JFK Airport: Pit of Hell or Just Purgatory?
Posted by Christie - 16/06/10 at 08:06 am
We just arrived back into town and stumbled into CG Central this morning after a fun trip to Berlin, a fabulous trip, a wonderful trip, and a trip whose only minor flaw was the fact that we had to travel through JFK.
Twice.
And that got us thinking….what is it about JFK that seems to steal people’s souls and slowly suck out the will to live? Have you ever noticed that people in the boarding area seem one step away from full-blown depression? How do they get that way? What exactly does the airport DO to people?
It is hard to put our fingers on one specific thing. In our particular case, we flew from DC to LaGuardia, and made the cross-town hike over to JFK to connect to our flight to Berlin. Things were peachy till we walked in the dreaded doors…and found that despite already checking in (and only having carry on bags as every good CityGirl weekender should) there was no hope of casually breezing through security and heading off to meet our plane.
Oh no. No, for us there was an hour long wait in the dismal and dirty security line, a line with only ONE machine open, and about 35,000 passengers waiting to get through it. You know, because LARGE INTERNATIONAL FLIGHTS LEAVE FROM THIS AIRPORT. EVERY DAY. And yet, despite this regularity of schedule resulting in crowds, JFK TSA folks seemed surprised: “People? In line? For planes? What?” and did nothing to expedite us through, nothing like opening the adjacent (empty) security line or anything.
Sigh.
Once through we found ourselves paying small fortunes for basic necessities ($3 for water, $4.14 for milk, and $14 for a small sandwich and bag of chips) as we wandered around trying to find a good spot to plug some electronics in and make a few calls. In other airports you see, sometimes there are nice areas to power up. Not so in JFK, where we found ourselves crouched in a hallway, balanced on a radiator as we stretched our blackberry plug into a sketchy socket next to a pillar. As we stared at the cracked and dirty floor, peeling paint, and the several other depressed-looking people doing the same thing, we felt it was a low moment.
And then we found our flight and were free! And German efficiency met us with a smile and a casual wave through Berlin immigration even though we somehow stumbled through the EU line by mistake. Yay! JFK was forgotten…
…until we got off our return flight. And found ourselves, not in immigration as one might expect, oh no. Not for us. No, we were in a hallway with 3 other international flights because the immigration room was too full. TOO FULL. Again, this must be a shocking turn of events in an airport where flights arrive from international destinations EVERY DAY. 600 people, in a hallway. Awesome.
And then we got to immigration, and saw a packed room and immediately our jet-lag/crankiness kicked in. We attempted to talk ourselves up (you’ll make it through! this isn’t hell! probably!) and had almost regained our equilibrium when, as we made it to the front of the line, our immigration officer got up and left. He left. Gone. No word. And we were left standing there with 500 other people wondering: “what the hell just happened” and “if I make a run for it will anyone notice?”
After waiting for 15 minutes and becoming steadily more irritated, there was a small altercation with a Delta representative who told us to “go to the back of the line and wait for another immigration officer” in a room with a line that consisted of 3000 people. We told her where we thought she could put that idea, and some shouting occurred on both sides. There may have also been some gesturing and some unkind thoughts, but right as we were about to really lose it, the gods of fortune smiled upon us and our immigration officer reappeared.
As with all of these things, while other people talked to the officer for like 20 minutes and appeared to be giving him their life story and criminal history, he just looked at our passport, stamped it, and we were through….leaving us to wonder, as always: “why does this take SO LONG? and why are there NO BATHROOMS?” and shake our head as we dashed through baggage claim, got swept up in a group of confused Italians with about 300 bags, and waved at the customs guy who very appropriately said: “Welcome to Disney Land.”
This is our sad tale. But maybe we are wrong about JFK? What are you travel stories that involve this, or any other airport? Are we right? Wrong? You tells us!
