My flight from Oakland (San Francisco's auxiliary airport) was initially delayed, and then cancelled due to faulty alarms. Most of the terminal, including myself, was made to walk out past security, but when the fraud was discovered, I had to go back trough security. By the time I got back to my gate, the flight had been cancelled and I was put onto later flight to Salt Lake City, but missed the connecting flight to Billings by 5 minutes. I was really nice and friendly about the kaffufle, and managed to wangle a flight directly to Bozeman and a free night's accommodation at a nearby hotel. For most of the night, it snowed pretty hard. However, the hotel's idea of "luck" was making it onto the 8am shuttle bus to the airport, their idea of chicken cesar salad involves grinding Paul Newman's Italian dressing in a mortar and pestle until it turns white and their idea of breakfast is like finding the theoretical value of the "x" in an impossibly impossible algebra equation. I got on my flight to Bozeman, and the view of Salt Lake City looked gorgeous, but my luggage somehow made its way to Idaho and took until today to arrive. This was my first experience with internal flight in the States. I don't need a crystal ball or naked pagan dances around a fire to see that there will be a stern letter and travel vouchers in my future.
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