Men's & Women's Toilet At Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport

Yesterday when I picked up Miss Puerto Rico at Terminal D at D/FW Airport, due to being stuck in the airport way too long due to a stuck piece of luggage I noticed something that I don't believe was there to be noticed on previous visits to D/FW.

As in the signs for and pointing to the entities formerly named "Restrooms" have been changed to "Men's Toilets" and "Women's Toilets."

I don't know for sure why, but something about this struck me as being really tacky.

While standing in the airport, waiting for the luggage to get unstuck, I asked a few others what they thought of the signage. Strange, different and never seen that before was the general opinion.

The signs are not accurate. Yes, there are toilets in the former restrooms, but there are also sinks, diaper changing tables and for the men, urinals. It could be very confusing for someone desperately searching for a sink to wash their hands.

Stuck Bag American Airlines Drama At D/FW Airport

Miss Puerto Rico's return to Texas was a bit bumpy. In San Juan, American Airlines insisted she check in the bag that she had carried on in Dallas.

Miss Puerto Rico had resolved to never check in a bag with American Airlines again after they lost a bag filled with all sorts of goodies and despite multiple filings of claims for restitution, American Airlines did not make good on their mistake.

I knew Miss PR's plane was late. When she landed she called me. I was barely on my way and was surprised she was on the ground. She told me, no problem, we are stuck on the tarmac til a gate opens.

The traffic jamming was terrible on the way to the airport. I was sure I'd be late, even though Miss PR was stuck on the tarmac,

I arrived at the terminal. D. The new International Terminal. I called. Miss PR was off the plane and waiting at Baggage Claim D16. This is when I learned she had been forced to check in a bag with the notoriously incompetent American Airlines baggage handlers.

I got to Baggage Claim D16 to see the bizarre sight of a guy standing on the moving baggage carousel, yanking on what looked like a briefcase stuck in the baggage conveyor belt.

Multiple attempts were made to get the Emergency Shut Off button to turn off the conveyor belt. But it would not stop.

Eventually someone somewhere was able to stop the thing.

Various people tried to pull the stuck bag loose. To no avail.

After about a half an hour the woman you see in the picture, above, took off her stiletto heels and climbed up on the carousel to try and extract the stuck bag. She was on the phone at the time. She had some connection to American Airlines and was making all sorts of phone calls to all sorts of people to get someone to come fix this.

Eventually a guy showed up with tools. There was a lot of secret agent type communication between the guy with tools and someone in control of the conveyor belt about reversing the motor to reverse the conveyor belt and free the briefcase.

After what seemed like a really long time the conveyor belt reversed, to no avail. It's resistance detection shutdown feature worked.

So, then the guy with the tools used a jackknife, which none of the fliers had, due to those, you know, flight safety rules to combat terrorism, to free the briefcase.

Then he told the guy on the other end of his secret agent communicator to put the conveyor belt back in forward mode.

Soon the baggage moving sound was heard, lights flashed and the conveyor belt and carousel were moving again. There was some cheering and applause

Miss Puerto Rico's unwillingly checked in piece of luggage was 3rd to arrive.

A happy ending to a very weird visit to D/FW Airport.

Now, to be clear, I do not believe this bizarre incident was an American Airlines problem. It was a D/FW Airport problem.

Why did the Emergency Shut-off not work? Why was the design of the conveyor belt such that something could slip through and jam up the conveyor belt? Why was the conveyor belt not designed in a way that if something did get stuck that it could easily be released, by, I don't know, maybe pulling a lever and creating a gap between the belt and the chunk of metal that the briefcase got stuck in.

Anyway, yet one more Airport Adventure courtesy of Miss Puerto Rico. And due to all this aggravation it cost 2 bucks instead of 1 to escape the airport, due to being detained through no fault of our own. Outrageous. I want my dollar back.

Public Airport Intoxication: Part Two, The Seinfeld Moment

Well, I really had me a day, yesterday. A totally absurd day. The most absurd part was a Seinfeld moment, well minutes, that had me running for 45 minutes, covering miles of two D/FW Airport parking garages. I'll get to that later.

So, you may remember, yesterday I took someone to the airport who proceeded to get arrested and jailed for public intoxication.

The party in question was heading to an island in the Atlantic, where the arrestee's 83 year old mother was going to pick her up.

So, the arrested was quite panicked as to how to let her mother know not to go to the airport. Several calls were made from the jail cell to various people trying to get the recipient of the call to call the mother. However, the cell connection from the cell was so bad, no one could make out much of the calls. And I don't speak Spanish. So, how could I call the mother.

At some point the arrestee was able to get ahold of someone on the island and told that person to tell the mother that the arrestee was sick. The person on the island somehow then told the mother that the arrestee was sick and in the hospital. Which is sort of true if you stretch poet license to its limits.

I got the number of the jail. Called, explained the situation. I'd been getting constant phone calls from the arrestee. Little of which I could understand. The jailer said he'd put the arrestee on a land line. Before that could happen the arrestee called again. I said I'd head that way and see if I could cause a release to happen.

The jail is not inside the airport. It's on a side road to the east about 3 miles from the main airport freeway. I found the jail. I talked to the jailer. He said the arrestee had not sobered up, under the legal limit, almost 9 hours after the arrest. I was appalled.

The jailer put the arrestee on a jail phone. I felt like I was in a prison movie. The arrestee was in a panic, worried her mother would have a heart attack thinking she was in a hospital. The arrestee begged me to get her out of there. I said I'd see what I could do.

I talked to the jailer, asked if the almost sober arrestee could be released to me. He said he'd go check on the current condition. He came back and said he could release the now sober arrestee.

It took a half hour to process us out of there. That is when it was learned that the 3 pieces of carry-on bags and a jacket, were back inside the airport.

The jailer gave me a number to call to make sure the items were there. I got an answering machine. The jailer told me Lost and Found was in the C2 section of the C terminal. I'd dropped the drunk off at C31 that morning. C31 is a long ways from C2. It's a big airport.

While I was trying to call Lost and Found the newly released jailbird called her mother. The cell phone had a good connection once it was out of the cell. I don't know what cover story was told the mother. I didn't care at that point.

So, we head back into the airport. I easily park right across from C2. I barged the line at the ticket counter and asked the agent where Lost and Found is. Right behind us, through security, she said. So, we had to show our driver's licenses and she printed up what looked like boarding tickets.

I was not happy having to go through security. I hate that part of flying. And I was not prepared for it. As in I was wearing baggy pants held up by a belt. But I made it through with only one slight moment where it would have been embarrassing. I was going commando, also with no socks.

I started to feel like I was in an Amazing Race episode. I found Lost and Found. Explained the situation. The Lost and Found lady, Tiffany Washington, said that type stuff is not brought there. I used my considerable powers of charm, and Tiffany made a lot of phone calls and located the missing items. They were back at baggage claim for C31.

We went back to my van, left that parking garage and headed for the C31 parking garage. Unlike C2, the C31 entry level was full, so I go to the next level, then the next. Find a spot, park, hurry to the C31 baggage claim. We find the stuff behind a locked door. A lady opens it. All is there but the jacket.

We grabbed the stuff and hurried out of there. Crossed over to the parking garage. I quickly walked to where I thought the van was. It was not there. I was totally baffled. We walked around for a bit, re-traced steps, all to no avail.

I then told the recently drunk one to stay put and I'd run through the garage. I proceeded to do so. It was sort of fun. I was told later I looked like a cartoon character. I thought I had checked out every possible location in that garage. So, I ran to the next garage. I quickly figured out, after running through 2 levels, that there was no way that could be the location.

Ran back to the C31 garage. Found the freshly sober one, who had asked an airport employee for help and was given a number to call where they'd send someone to drive you through the garages looking for your vehicle. I thought that sounded ridiculous, but I took the number.

I said to the sober one, I think I made a mistake, thinking we'd had to go up, to find my van, but then I remembered that when I left the full level, the road went downhill, before re-entering the parking garage.

So, I ran down a level, then another. I was pretty sure I was on the right track, but I was calling that rescue number anyway. As I hit option #1 on the phone tree, I spotted my van.

I called the arrestee/jailbird/drunk/sober one and said stay put, I'll be right there.

It was an uneventful drive back. 121 had backed up 183, so I exited at 157 and took a right on Trinity Boulevard to get back here with no more traffic jams.

The starved arrestee/jailbird/drunk/sober one had not eaten, so I drove through Jack in the Box, then back to her place, where I hauled up the baggage and poured the rest of the liquid, that had caused the trouble, down the drain.

I needed a good symbolic gesture.

And then I was out of there. 20 minutes later I got a call telling me she found the missing jacket, stuffed into one of her bags.

What a happy ending to a sad, sordid, pathetic story.

The Hazards Of Public Intoxication At D/FW Airport

That is the morning view of part of the enormous Dallas/Fort Worth Airport. Or, as Fort Worth would prefer it to be called, Fort Worth/Dallas Airport.

I was there this morning, real early. To deliver a person flying out of the country.

On the way to the airport the person flying was consuming a liquid beverage. I thought it was some liquid breakfast of some sort.

But, by the time we got to the terminal I began to think that the liquid breakfast had a high alcohol content. It was so early in the morning I thought there was no way the person flying would be drinking a liquid breakfast with a high alcohol content.

I got the person flying through the terminal door and I was on my way home.

About 5 minutes after getting back here, that'd be about 15 minutes since I left the airport, I got a call. The person flying had been stopped from getting on a plane, charged with public intoxication and brought to the airport jail to sober up. I really was not able to understand much of what the person flying was saying.

So, I called back. A man answered. It was the jailer. The phone had been taken away from the person flying. He told me the person flying was going to be held until sober and a fine was paid.

Hours later, the jailer must have returned the phone to the person flying, because I got a garbled, bad connection call, asking me to call the person flying's mother to tell the mother the person flying was sick.

I reminded the person flying that I do not speak Spanish and even if I did, telling the mother that the person flying was sick would likely worry the mother more than the person flying not showing up at the appointed time.

About an hour back I got another call. Another bad connection.

An hour or so later, another call, this time I could make out that the fine had been paid. $210. And that the person flying would be released in an hour or so.

I then called the jail for directions. The jail is not at the airport.

I guess I'll head that way, but I'm in no big hurry to rescue the person who was formerly flying.

So, that's been my day. Up at 3am, dealing with public intoxication. And now another trip to the airport zone.

I need to find a better class of persons flying to deliver to the airport. I delivered Gar the Texan to the airport once. I don't think he was drunk.