Has anyone tried installing the Costco Mohawk Home Laminate in a high traffic area/kitchen? It says that the surface is waterproof and joints also tight enough to be water resistant but not sure how it performs practically. Reviews are all over the place. Thank you!

Hey folks, I was wondering if anyone had any recommendations for LVP flooring repairs. The original flooring that came with my house is the discontinued Mohawk/Pergo Hutton Delmare 270. I was able to find a color match on floorstoyourhome but the new planks have a different locking mechanism. I drove around a couple of stores to find other potential substitutes with no luck.
I'm hoping to find a flooring contractor who could cut and glue the pieces down even if it compromises the locking and waterproofing of the floors. Worst case scenario, I'd pull planks from a donor region and lay new flooring down in the donor area. However, it's been difficult to find good flooring companies since I didn't buy the material from them. I did call up one contractor today but he made an even bigger mess of the situation, so I'm a bit hesitant with how I should proceed from here.
Some additional details:

• My builder didn't leave any spare planks and the vendor that provided the material only sells commercially
• I've contacted the manufacturers (Mohawk and Pergo) but they didn't have any recommendations for substitutes or wholesalers who could potentially have the product still.
• The replacement planks I bought are the Pergo Extreme Delmare. The styling code matches but it's not the same thing as the Hutton.

We are in the process of designing our new construction home. Our builder has given us 3 options for flooring. We have a baby and cats and wanted to floor the entire home (including bathroom - so engineered HW might not be the best choice). Do you have a recommendation of what is best based off the Mowawk brand? Which would be longer lasting - Laminate or LVP ?

“This geriatric bunch in cold sleep?”
“Affirmative. But their records show that they have been in cold sleep multiple times. They should respond quickly to the resuscitation procedure.”
“But, why? Wouldn’t it be more merciful to leave them in stasis while the Jaxorians intercept us?”
“Yes, but Allyson says that these individuals are the ones who might get us out of this situation.”
“The Terran engineer? You’re trusting her?”
“In a zero-sum analysis, her suggestions have net positive outcomes.”
“Just for the record, I think this is a bad idea.” A pause. “Resuscitation sequence activated.”
“Duly noted. Alert me when they are awake.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
William Exeter hated the feeling of coming to after cold sleep. While the modern systems were better than those he first encountered, he still felt like his muscles were infused with lead and that he was suffering from a hangover that he never got the enjoyment of deserving. But hopefully this would be one of the last times he would ever have to use the procedure, and he could finally settle down.
As the capsule’s lid slid back, harsh light assaulted William’s eyes, and he squinted in an attempt to lessen the pain. The silhouette of a triangular head above him let William know that a Dravitian was checking on him. He swallowed and got his voice working so he could croak out, “I’m up, I’m up.”
“Ah, Mr. Exeter, yes? I am…” The insectoid started to come into better view to the Terran’s adjusting eyes. “Captain? Yes, Captain of this ship. I am… We all are in need of assistance.”
“Uh, what?” William’s croaking voice hid some of his annoyance. “Yeah, I’m Exeter. But if you’re going to get my help, you’re going to have to get me a Jolt. I’m still half asleep from the drugs.”
The Dravitian’s head tilted to the side in an obvious gesture of confusion, “You require an electrical discharge?”
And this was why William hated waking up among aliens. He had to explain everything to them. “A drink. ‘All the sugar and twice the caffeine.’ Bah!” He started to force his muscles into action and pushed up on his elbows, “Just get me a goddamned stimulant, okay?”
“Oh, yes. Yes. Of course!” The Dravitian’s head disappeared as the insectoid moved over to a wall-mounted workstation.
William turned his head and saw several other cold-sleep capsules with their lids open. He cleared his throat and then called out, “Venture crew, sound off...”
“Here!”
"I hear you, Bill.”
From a nearby capsule there was a dry coughing, but a hand in a ‘thumbs-up’ gesture rose in response.
“Well, good, I won’t have to suffer alone.” William turned his head again and looked over the other closed capsules, “But they didn’t wake everyone, so something’s up. Try to shake this shit off and get ready, okay?”
There were murmurs of ascent and more dry coughs from the other capsules.
The Dravitian come back from the workspace and addressed William, “Stimulant beverages and some cakes are on their way, Mr. Exeter. While I know that you are still under the effects of the stasis pharmaceuticals, I do need to apprise you of our need. You know of the Jaxorians, yes?”
William’s brow furrowed, “What, those crab-guys who go around in those water-suits? Didn’t we beat them in that big war?”
The Dravitian pulled back a little, “It was a negotiated settlement, I believe, but yes, your descriptive words adequately fit the Jaxorian physiology.” He paused, “Well, the Jaxorians, and their rulers the Drasalites, are once again at war, and we are now targets. I would not have woken you , but our Terran engineer was sure that you could help.”
William frowned and shook his head, “We should have finished them once and for all when we had the chance, but we have to let the Soviets fail as Soviets, don’t we?” He sighed, “And we’re humans, dammit. Homo sapiens sapiens by fuckin’ scientific classification. We once lived on Terra, but our genus and species doesn’t change when we move to another-” He noticed the paling colors on the edges of the Captain’s chitinous facial plates and stopped his Duckman-esque rant, “Look, nevermind. How much time do we have?”
The insectoid paused, as if surprised be the direct question. “We estimate a cycle, if our engineer’s modifications to the engines hold. Our speed has been dramatically increased, but the Jaxorian ships still gain slowly. We will eventually be within the effective range of their weapons. Please, direct us.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
After some of the greasy-spoon diner-ish coffee and the supermarket quality yeast-raised, honey-glazed donuts, the four Terrans looked and felt better. William glanced at his colleagues, noting the wear of time on their bodies. He chuckled as the slightly altered movie quote of ’It’s not the years, it’s the light-years’ ran through his mind. But they’d been together ‘asleep’ much longer than they’d been awake, and they’d spent more of their ‘awake’ lives together than apart.
Tony Scarpetti’s pudgy fingers tipped his cup almost upside down as he tried to get the last drops of the coffee and granulated sugar sludge into his mouth. His once black hair was now mostly white, and his tough physique that ran circles around them on the soccer field had shrunk a bit, though he was still stocky.
Peter Hoffman had finally gotten control of his coughing, and was munching on ‘just one more’ donut, and William once again wondered where Peter fit all the food he ate in that short, diminutive frame. His signature mohawk had been fluffed up with fingers, but lacking styling gel and a razor to clean up the stubble that had grown out in cold sleep, it ended up looking more like a peaked mound than the sharp style that Peter would have usually rocked.
Alex (AJ) Johnson’s hair had finally receded so much that his braid only held back reddish hair from behind his ears, though his scraggly beard was long enough that he could probably have braided it as well. Always tall and gangly, his frame seemed a little more gaunt than William remembered, though it had been almost a decade of cold-sleep travel since they had last seen each other.
“Hey, Doctor Exeter?”
William turned his head toward the voice, and looked at the young woman with blonde hair striding toward the table where the four sat around their coffee and donuts. Her utilitarian grey coveralls had scorch-marks and grime all over, and there was some of the same on her exposed hands and face, but bright teeth were visible in her smile.
William nodded, “You must be the plucky human engineer who got us woken up before our alarm went off, huh?”
The woman nodded, still smiling widely and, as she got over to the table, thrust out her hand toward William in the manner of one who just remembered something. “Yeah, sorry about that, Doctor. I’m Allyson, and I’m the only Terran on the ship. Besides you guys, that is.”
William took the extended hand and shook it, being a little more gentle than he usually would have been, given the way that the woman’s grip and lack of fluid motion showed that she wasn’t experienced in shaking hands as a greeting ritual. But she had looked it up, and that counted for something. “Well, us humans have to stick together, right? You sure you want us geezers to help you out? Don’t you have some flashy alien tech to get away from these crab guys?”
Allyson grinned as the handshake seemed to go correctly and shook her head, “Well, if you had been four guys who weren’t from the Space Venture, I would have let you sleep and hoped that I could come up with some way to escape, but well… you are, and well…” She looked at the men around the table, “You guys solve problems, right?”
“Troubleshoot.” AJ corrected, his voice still a little rough. “We’re Troubleshooters. So we’re likely to be able to fix problems on the ship, but not necessarily the situation. It gives us an out on some problems…”
Allyson’s brow furrowed, but before she could say anything, William offered, “But we’ll try and get you out of this alive, okay?” He looked over toward AJ, “No need to haze the newb, ‘kay?”
AJ chuckled and nodded, going for another sip of his coffee.
Allyson looked between the two old men and shook her head. Weren’t these guys the stuff of legends? Why didn’t they act like it? But they were what she had. What the whole ship had. Oh, the ship, right. “And we don’t really have any xenotech. This is an old decommissioned TA vessel, a combat freighter, so it’s kind of structurally overbuilt for a freighter. It was the TAV Thuban, but after being bought up by a Dravitian company it’s now the CCV K’gara B’rak. That translates to something like ‘Ugly Worker Beetle’.”
William raised an eyebrow, “I thought those bugs didn’t like old ships?”
Allyson grinned, “They couldn’t build a new ship to these durability specs at anywhere near the sale price. I think that it vexes the Captain to no end.”
Tony finally set his cup down on the table, finished fighting with the sludge, and looked at at the woman with a playful grin, “Likely to be really upset once we get going, then…”
William grinned as well, “Well, we’ll get there as we get there. So, is Skynet running things here?”
The engineer blinked and cocked her head a little in her confusion, “Skynet? Um…” Her words trailed off as she tried to decipher the meaning.
William sighed, “Artificial intelligence. Is there one running the ship?”
Allyson shook off her confusion, “Oh, uh, no. Of course there are still core hook-ups, but the company didn’t recruit one. There are some smart systems, but they don’t come up to AI levels.”
William nodded, slowly and resignedly. He looked at the other older men, “Okay, so I guess I’ll be spending my time hacking while you guys get to have some actual fun.” He looked back to the engineer and started to get up out of his chair, feeling the ache in his lower back. “Well, let’s get me to a terminal, and rummage up some walkies so we can keep in contact.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
William glowered at the large touchscreen that sat angled on its adjustable armature, and muttered, “What fresh hell is this operating system?”
The Dravitian Captain at the nearby navigation station on the ship’s bridge looked over, “Sir, this is the newest release of the Efficient Interface. While you are viewing it in Terran Standard, it is optimized for the Dravitian language.”
William shook his head, “So other than these cosmetic changes that I can get to in settings, where can I actually get to control configurations?”
The Captain pulled back its head in surprise, “What? You can’t change the control configurations! They are all optimized!”
William sighed and shook his head, “You jammed the ‘economy’ button down, so we can’t get to the ‘power’ button. Right…” He tapped open the program that accessed the file storage and began examining what was there.
After a few minutes of the bridge crew watching the Terran scroll and tap and curse in a low voice, William let out a exuberant, “Got you, you bastard!” On the touchscreen, a simple text box came up, indicating that it was a Root Command Shell, with a blinking block cursor.
William’s fingers flew over the virtual keyboard on the angled touchscreen, and another window bloomed on the screen. He slid it off to the side, then continued to tap and another window popped up. He slid it off to the top corner of the screen. In each of the windows, progress bars slid slowly from one side to another, character strings rolling down past the bottom of the window, the screen indicator on the scroll bar on the side getting smaller and smaller as the list grew and grew.
The Captain leaned over from its workstation and observed the workings on the Terran’s screen, “What is all that? I’ve never seen this option in the interface.”
William chuckled, still typing commands in the first window, “Oh, it’s a command line interface. They just slapped your interface over the military OS, and that still had lots of useful modules and programs in archive. I can bypass the ‘pretty’ GUI you guys use and actually get to controls.” He paused, “Holy hell! They left a media archive in here. Let’s get that unpacked right now!”
A new window popped up on the touchscreen, with another progress bar. William brought up yet another window, and worked inside it, and the progress bars started to move across their respective windows faster.
The Captain cocked its head, “Sir, I find fault in your judgement that what we need in this situation is media. The Jaxorians are not known for their imaginative capabilities.” It paused, “And I think your tasks are slowing down the computational processors, which again, I find fault with in these circumstances.”
William chuckled, “Well, sure it will seem slower. I made all my operations high priorities for the processors. And you can’t expect us to do our best work in silence. We’ll need a good jam.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
Allyson led the three older men through the hatch into the huge engineering bay where the three reactors were lined up with the longitudinal axis of the ship. Aft of those, the floor fell away beyond a safety railing, so that the bulk of the four huge engines could be accessed by a network of ladders, platforms, and gantries. Most of the floor was clear, but here and there hatches, tools, and parts lay askew on the deck, and wires and tube of various sizes and colors snaked between components in a way that belied the hasty, jury-rigged engineering tasks that had been recently undertaken. A couple of insectoid engineers were working on maintaining parts of the unstable system.
“And this is the playground,” offered Allyson as she spread her arms to indicate the whole open area. “We’ve got four Hammond LS-V-3400 ion drives backed by three of the Niagara-class fusion reactors. I’ve, uh, removed some of the safeties on the engines and tweaked the safety specs on the reactors, so we’re making just over five percent above rated maximum speed.”
Tony walked away from the others to lean against the safety railing and take in the sight of the engines.
Peter glanced around the area, then noticed the machining and fabrication tools and sauntered over to inspect them, hands tucked in his pockets and his boots scuffing the floor.
The two Dravitian technicians looked up from their work momentarily, apraising the Terrans, but staying quiet.
AJ made his way over to the reactors, and frowned as he looked at the readouts showing that the reactors were running hot, right on the edge of red-line. “Cutting these pretty fine.”
Allyson nodded as she looked over toward the tall man and started slowly walking toward him, “Um, yeah. I couldn’t figure out a good way to get more output from the engines, so I was just trying to route more power through them. These are still safe, but they’ll be burning up the plating faster than they should.”
AJ nodded and continued perusing, leaning down to look into an open hatch and seeing how one of the patched in high-energy line had been connected.
Tony continued to watch the engines and called, “Hey, Allyson, these still work with Cherenkov dispersal for additional thrust?”
Allyson quickly changed her trajectory to veer away from reactors and back toward the engines, “Uh, yeah, they do. There are controllers in there that help to make the emissions more directional.” She got to the railing and pointed at an orange ring that was visible on each engine right near the aft bulkhead. “Those big electromags help control the dispersal. I have plans and simulations on the computer if you want to see how they work.”
Tony peered in the indicated direction, then nodded and turned toward Allyson, “Yeah, get me to a terminal with some VR goggles and I’ll take a lo-” His voice cut off at the sudden sound from the engineering bay’s speakers.
A syncopated drum beat sounded over the hum of the machinery, then came an almost gravelly yell-singing voice. ”Come on, feel the noise. Girls, rock your boys. We’ll get wild, wild, wild.”
Allyson’s surprised gaze swept up to the big speakers mounted in the corners of the room by the ceiling.
Grins and smiles grew on the faces of the three older men, and they all joined in with the words as an electric guitar sawed into being and the rest of the band added their voices to the lead singer on a response answer of “Wild, wild, wild!” And then the drums picked up and the rest of the instruments kicked in, bringing the song fully into swing.
The singer continued as Peter’s hands played air-drums over a CNC machine’s working space, ”So you think I got an evil mind. I tell you, honey, I don’t know why. I don’t know why.”
Allyson had never heard the song, but the beat was compelling, and it somehow invigorated the men in a way she hadn’t expected. Just out of cold sleep, in the midst of an inevitable chase, with such limited resources, they were singing along with smiles on their faces. AJ was tapping on a reactor interface, and Peter was almost dancing as he poked about her workbench storage space, going over her tools, a screwdriver and electric ratchet stem in his hands as drumsticks for his air-drums.
The Dravitian technicians huddled in a fearful pose at the sudden noise.
Tony grinned widely at Allyson’s surprise, and said loudly over the music, “William’s got good taste for montage music… Show me that terminal.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
The Captain looked over to the Terran’s workspace which was now exhorting somebeing to ‘get wild, wild, wild’ over and over again. It seemed to have some detrimental affect on the older Terran, as its head was bobbing up and down as it continued to work with the code. The insectoid in command just had to say something. “Excuse me, sir. Are you sure that the distracting audio stimulation is beneficial for you? It does not seem to be related to your current task …”
William glanced over at the Dravitian, “Look, bug-boy, the music keeps my endorphins up, and tricks me into thinking I still have all the energy of a teenager. You’re just lucky that I know what my crew likes, and that this archive is low on industrial music.” He pauses and types intensely, then continues, “So no, it’s not related, but if you really want a chance to get away from those crab-guys, this music tips the scales in our favor, okay?”
The Captain abruptly looked back to its console. “Affirmative answer, sir.”
William nodded to himself, and cocked his head as he read something off the screen. “So, a bunch of the cargo is plasma generators for terraforming?” He looked over to the insectoid who was pointedly not looking at him. “Are those things as dangerous as they sound?”
-=-=-=-=-=-
“Hey guys!” William’s voice echoed from the big loudspeakers in the engineering bay as the song came to an end.
“Yo boss!” Peter called up toward the ceiling from the tool bench where he had accumulated a selection of choice tools.
“I got control of the control code up here. Some of it’s military code under all this glossy shit. What have you guys got back there?”
Tony stood amidst a holographic simulation of an engine, and called out, “We got some damped down ion engines. The design is like the old McPherson Mark Five, and I think I can flare ‘em up the same way. Gimme six hours or so.”
AJ looked up toward the ceiling after Tony finished, “These fusion reactors are running flat out, Bill. I’m thinking about patching up a capacitor bank so we can push things farther, or at least have some extra power when we need it. Three or four hours, depending on how easy I can find the parts.” he paused, “And I’m officially putting in a request for you to put something dance-able on your wheel of steel.”
Peter called out, “And I’m just waiting for these slackers to tell me what they need. But I’m all tooled up for just about anything they want.” He grinned playfully at the other two.
William’s chuckle came over the speaker, “Gotcha. Those sound like good projects. We get a powerful flare, we’ve got a chance to run.” He paused, “Allyson, you there too?”
Allyson, still near the holographic engine display, had been turning her head this way and that to try and follow the conversation and understand what the forming plan of the ‘troubleshooters’ was. She forced herself to call out, “Yes, Dr. Exeter.”
William’s voice came from the speakers, “Okay, Allyson, I need you to take Pete down to Cargo Bay Three and help him uncrate all of the plasma terraforming engines you can find there. Pete, I want those things sky-side against the outer wall of Bay Two and fastened in place. If we need power for them, I want you to run a line back to AJ’s source, and it will need to be vacuum sealed. We’re likely to depressurize that bay so try not to make too many unnecessary holes, okay?” He paused, “And don’t worry, that bay has some speakers too. I won’t leave you silent …”
Peter grinned and nodded, then started to load tools onto a nearby hovercart. As he worked, he called out, “On it, boss! Do they have any Ramones or Dead Kennedys or anything with more energy in that jukebox? That’s my request, Mr. DJ.”
William’s voice carried his chuckle, “I’m on it, guys. I’ll keep you updated, you guys let me know the word. Out.”
As the beats of New Order’s Blue Monday started to bounce around the engineering bay, Peter looked over at Allyson, “Hey, give me a hand with some of this. We need to bounce!”
Allyson registered the words and jogged across the bay to the hovercart, “Sorry, sir, we have to ‘bounce’?”
Peter chuckled, still pulling tools from the bench to add to the load. “We have to get moving. Can we bring that welder and thermal lance, or is there a better option?”
Allyson let out a quiet ‘oh’, then shook her head, “There’s a backpack unit that can cut and weld. Much easier to move.” She pulled open a a nearby locker.
Peter grinned, “Oh, sweet! Are there two?”
Part 2

TLDR: American Airlines sent my bag to Dallas after I canceled my flight, leaving me stranded in the airport for 50 hours. They showed no empathy and claimed I needed to cancel my bag separately, acting like sending an unattended bag was normal procedure.
___________
May was such a horrible month for me. I found out that I had to move to a new apartment before June (another whole damn story), I ended up getting a flare up of tendonitis in my wrists and ankles due to moving to an apartment that was 4 floors up (I was stair climbing for daaaays), work was a nightmare for some reason this month, and the one thing that kept me going was thinking that I was going to go away on vacation to Texas/Oklahoma and cross those states off my bucket list that I'm working off of since I want to see all 50 states before I'm 50 years old.
It was going to be my second time flying solo. The first time I took Frontier which was good enough but pretty basic with its amenities. American Airlines seemed like a step up from them. I was planning to see San Antonio, Austin, Dallas, Oklahoma. I was going to Jensen Ackles' brewery "Family Business", Voltaire's concert on Friday night in Austin and about 30 other places on my never-ended itinerary. Despite the nonsense I had been dealing with all month in May, I was counting down the days till I could skip town and head off to Texas to see a man about a concert.
I always fly out of Raleigh instead of Richmond, due to Raleigh having cheaper flights and more direct flights than Richmond. It's an easy enough 2 hour drive.
However, on the way down to Raleigh though, my trip started with a bump-- literally. My tire popped in Macklenburg County in Virginia. At first I didn't even know where I was but the secretary at what Google said was the closest tire place helped me figure out my coordinates as I panicked on the side of the road. I was certain I was going to miss my flight, but she also did some math and said they could totally get me to my flight on time. I was a little frazzled when I got back on the road, but I checked my watch. It was a good thing I left early; I was still on schedule. Everything was gonna be fine. I just had to make it to the airport on my new donut of a tire and everything would be smooth sailing. No trip ever goes without a few bumps on the road, I reminded myself-- superstitiously, I believed getting the trip's one flaw out of the way early would mean that the rest of the trip would run great.
I got my first txt message while driving the last hour there that my flight was delayed a bit. So I was even more ahead of schedule despite the flat tire.
Then I had to catch the bus from the economy parking lot, wherein I must have looked nervous because the nice couple on the bus asked me if I was running late. I told them about the tire and said my flight was at 2:45. They said I would make it there in no time.
"Just relax, it's gonna be a great trip!" the woman said and smiled at me. I believed her and settled my nerves a bit. They even helped me figure out what terminal to get off at when I didn't know when to get off the bus.
Then, when I got into the airport, the lady helping at the ticketing electronic kiosks asked me to volunteer to check my bag. She said that they were asking for volunteers now, but it would probably be mandatory later on, just based on where I was sitting in the plane and the fact that they didn't have enough overhead compartments in that area of the plane. I was still a bit frazzled from the mess with my tire and with my tendonitis still aggravating my wrist and my ankles, I just said sure, whatever, I volunteer as tribute. I'll help out and take one for the team. Famous last words. I realized later on that if the airports are offering something for free, it's like a faerie offering you food -- DO NOT TAKE IT.
But I do remember that I had also just gotten an email from American Airlines about there being numerous delays that day and flight plans maybe changing a lot. I asked the lady at the kiosk what would happen with my luggage if the flight was cancelled and how I could get it back in that event. She said, "No, no, no, it's fine, it's only delayed right now, you're fine."
THIS-- LADIES AND GENTLEMEN -- IS WHAT IS KNOWN AS FORESHADOWING!
When I got to the baggage check-in, they only asked about anything fragile, perishable, breakable. In all the mix ups that had happened that morning, I was just happy to be dropping my bag off and not dealing with it anymore, and did not think to grab my keys out of it. Again, I was just trying to be helpful. So off my bag went, with my keys-- this again, is FORESHADOWING.
A few more TSA checkpoints and I WAS AT THE TERMINAL!!!! YAY!!!! FINALLY!!!!!
Considering all the moving bullsht in May, tendonitis flare up in wrists and ankles, flat tire, delayed flight, possible flight cancellation... Someone had switched on the EXTRA ADVENTURE setting on this trip. For hours it ended up being just lots of stress, waiting, delays, bumps in the plans and me hoping and praying I'd get to Texas that night. If anyone had known how to toggle that switch back to the default easy setting of vacationing, that would have been wonderful!
But I figured when I finally got to The Family Business Brewery, I needed to go find Dean Winchester and ask him for help on lifting this trip's curse. At least it was themed well for a Supernatural trip.
I got to the airport around noon - Flight 2381 - 2:45 but changed to 3:54. Then the flight ended up getting delayed another two hours. Then there was talk that it wouldn't fly at all. I was getting frustrated and kept repeating in my head, "I. Just. Want. To. Be. On. The. Plane. In. The. Air!!!"
And then it got delayed five more times, from what little information I had at the time it was most likely due to the weather. Dallas had high winds and thunderstorms that day. If I ever got on the plane, I would be getting there in the middle of the night and still have the four hour drive to Airbnb in Austin, because I was flying to Dallas but starting my trip in Austin. I was so stressed I ended up going for a terminal pub crawl.
And then the news came that all flights were cancelled to Dallas for the rest of the day. I had no place to sleep in Raleigh. They wanted to reroute me to Austin but my rental car was still up in Dallas so I would have been stranded in Austin once I landed, they also said since it was a connecting flight in Charlotte with only a very minimal window of time to get off one flight and get on another, if I went with that option I would have to really hope everything went exactly as scheduled or I would be stranded in Charlotte. And also, when the person I called from the airline was checking the flights, they were all booked to Austin anyway because I think a lot of people rerouted to there. We finally settled on getting me on the very early 5:20am flight on Friday morning to Dallas but I was going to have to stay at the airport all night until that flight. I told myself it was fine, I could just sleep on the plane for a few hours.
One of the two Airbnbs for that week insisted I cancel my reservation because he didn't want to take my money after all of this. He had been talking to me throughout all the delays and I think he just felt pity for me at that point. It wasn't even my idea to try to get the money back, but he said he felt so sorry for me that the airline had me stuck in the airport all night.
Suddenly, a friend I knew through Facebook but I don't think I've ever really met in real life reminded me he lived in Raleigh. Joseph said I could sleep at his place Thursday night after he read about my trouble at the airport on my Facebook and I was more than grateful for his assistance.
But when I walked back to my car to drive over to him, I realized my car keys were in my checked luggage. God damn it. This day would just not quit with the bad luck. I was so exhausted, I just layed in the parking lot next to my car exasperated, feeling like Barbie in the Barbie movie where she's just laying on the ground, Jesus take the wheel, I'm done.
I finally asked him if he could pick me up instead. He said to meet him back at the terminal. So I caught a bus back to the terminal. I thought about getting my keys from my checked luggage so he wouldn't have to drive over (though he said it was only a 5 minute drive and he was fine doing it), but then I decided the bag was safe enough. I didn't want to bother the airline staff when I was going to have to recheck it at 3am for the 5:20 flight the next morning anyway. It was fine where it was -- I'd be back the next morning, grab the flight and keep the vacation going one way or another.
I slept over at Joseph's house that night. However, he said he was going camping that weekend and he was leaving the house on Friday morning and wouldn't be back until Sunday. So I could only stay there on Thursday night, which was fine. I wasn't sleeping in an airport like I thought I was going to have to do and I figured I would be on a plane the next morning anyway. Everything was just a little delayed, but it was fine, it'll be fine, EVERYTHING IS FINE. I felt like the dog sitting in the burning kitchen in that 'everything is fine' meme.
It was allll sooooooo adVENturoUS... whimpers...
Then, when I was laying in bed at around 10pm, I got an email saying that my 5:20 on Friday (AA 2605) was cancelled. They rebooked me for Saturday 5:20 (AA 2605), which made me think the weather in Dallas must be so bad that all the flights were cancelled on Friday. I figured that was the only reason they would rebook me a whole 24 hours later. But I was going to be missing the concert on Friday night, half the trip was over, I had no place to sleep on Friday night since Joseph would be on his camping trip. I just decided to call it and say I couldn't consent to the Saturday automatic change. I called to cancel. Customer service asked me if I wanted to fly on Saturday and I said there was just no way I was going to be able to do that, I was just not going at all now. Customer service said they would refund me the money for the flight, I just had to put it into the website when I get back home.
Then I ended up trying to recoup what money I could from all my rentals for the week. Overall, I lost a few hundred from nonrefundable stuff from Airbnb, Turo car rental -- I don't even want to know how much money I lost, I haven't counted yet.
The trip was obviously cursed. I was just going to have to head back home on a tire donut, no trip taken, pay my parking stub for the privilege of waiting through all this nonsense and vow NEVER to use American Airlines EVER again. Well, first I have to get back to the airport and pick up my checked luggage and pray they didn't lose it cause my car keys were in it.
Folks were starting to comment on my Facebook that the amount of issues with this trip felt a bit supernatural -- like, could some force in the universe be trying to keep me out of Dallas for my own sake -- lol, not sure but it definitely felt like my guardian angel kept putting hurdle after hurdle in front of me all month, trying to keep me out of Texas for my own good. I really wasn't happy, but I wasn't in crisis mode yet.
This had been the worst trip of my life. I lost hundreds on nonrefundable stuff, but I got back what I could already. I was so depressed, but what could I do but question why I choose the travel lifestyle in the first place.
At least my friend had a very nice bedroom I vacationed in... I took a few selfies of myself, imagining the Texas landscape behind me. Alas, no beautiful desert sunsets for me.
We decided to get a late start to the day and sleep in a bit because I figured there was no point in going to the airport at 5:20 (or 3:20 if the 'two hours early' thing applied) because if none of the flights were taking off the next day and I was just grabbing my bag and going home, I could at least take it slow.
Joseph dropped me off at the airport, we said goodbye and he headed off to his camping trip in the mountains.
When I got into the baggage claim area, I was already a bit upset and I forgot my manners a bit and got down to business right away. "So you have my bag, my flight got cancelled, I'm not going anymore, I need to know where to pick it up."
The black woman working there with bronze twists (I wish I had gotten the names of these people but it didn't occur to me at the time) starred me down, giving me a metric ton of side eye and drawled out, "Good morning to YOU too" in dripping sarcasm. She then took my ticket, looked for my bag and told me as if it was no big deal. "Your bag was sent to Dallas on the 7:45 plane."
I just blinked, not comprehending what I heard her say. "What do you MEAN it's in Dallas?!"
She didn't seem to have the time to deal with me panicking. She said cancelling my bag was up to me and I should have known to do that when I had called about my refund the night before. She looked at me like I was stupid for not knowing this. But who sends an unattended bag, alone, to a far away city when the person is not going there and there will be no one to pick it up. In what world is that a normal thing to do?
And so I began rocking back and forth, realizing my keys were in the bag. I had no way home. I was stuck there. I still couldn't believe it... THEY SENT MY BAG TO DALLAS!!!!!
"All this panicking that you're doing right now isn't helping," she just said, as if I was being a bother to them all. Okay, but when you're stranded at the airport and the bag with your keys is god knows where, I personally believe that is the perfect time to panic.
She said there SHOULD be a flight coming back with it today, but they didn't really know and couldn't be half-assed to find out. She just gave me a ticket with information on how to claim it if it ever did show up again.
If. my. car. keys. ever. did. show. up. again.
When I told my friends on Facebook about this, they were as confused as I was "up to you to cancel your bag????? I never heard that in my life!!"
And "my partner flies many times a year for business and says there is no such thing as cancelling your bags, and your bags should automatically be held if you are cancelled".
And joking about the utter absurdity of it: "Gosh, I can’t go to Texas, but there’s no reason why my luggage shouldn’t still get to go! It deserves a vacation!"
And "Cut to your bag in an airport bar, surrounded by people chanting 'Shots! Shots! Shots!'"
My. Bag. Had. Taken. Its. Own. Vacation.
They had room for my bag on the 7:45 but not me?!
Another friend commented on my Facebook with: "What airline is this? I have been flying for around 50 years and used to fly often for business I have never heard of having to cancel a bag. It is always done in conjunction with the ticket. Since the TSA took over i thought all language had to be associated with a passenger by regulation [....] I don’t know what kind of made up nonsense they told you but I have never heard of and can’t find anything about canceling a checked bag. It is on them for security reasons."
And yeah, isn't that a security risk? If I was a passenger, I sure wouldn't want an unattended bag flying alone -- what a great way to give someone an opportunity to set off a really explosive day. TSA is all about its checkpoints and unattended bags in the airport lounge, but get them on a plane unattended and its fair game.
Not sure what I was going to do then, and having had the super mean lady dismiss me because she didn't want to be bothered, I wandered the terminal, found a corner to go cry in and sat dumbfounded at what to do next. A nice security guard came over to me, asked me what was wrong and I told her everything.
She then said, "We'll figure this out. Let's go talk to Harry at the baggage claim. I know Harry. He's a good friend of mine. He'll figure this out!"
So off I went to go meet Harry!
From the start of our conversations, Harry was good people. Harry did some digging right away, finding out that the flight that my bag was supposedly on landed in about 2 hours from then. He told me I would get a text message from the airport that they had secured my bag. It would let me know what flight it will be coming back on. I just needed to be patient because it looked like I was going to be there for the next six hours at least. He said to come back around noon to get more information.
Whenever I went back for updates throughout the day, the lady with the bronze twists gave me this really snide pissed off look. On one occasion she even told me, "Move!" when I was standing in her way around the baggage conveyor belt. Like, I'm sorry that I forgot my manners for a moment there, and I didn't greet your highness with a good morning, but you have done absolutely nothing for me after stranding me in an airport all night. She hated me and I honestly couldn't figure out why.
The weather was just horrible in Dallas so they didn't know when there would be flights out or when I would get my bag back. They said that it looked like there would be a couple of flights coming back that day, but they were not entirely sure when with all the delays.
I waited around until noon (I couldn't even go in the terminal because I didn't have an active ticket so I just had to sit around the lobby), but then when no text came confirming they had my bag, I went over to them and they said that they have to help everybody else with the flight that just came in before they could help me out. I was freaking out by this point, just hoping they could at least tell me what flight my bag was planning on coming back on. Just a flight number. Anything!! I was already envisioning myself playing out Tom Hanks' part in The Terminal movie. I was absolutely stranded at the airport until I got that bag and my keys that were in it back. I had no idea what I was going to do.
Harry was eventually able to locate my bag. He gave me four different flights that it could come back on and sent a message over to Dallas to send it back asap. Depending on the weather, I have four chances to get it back by the end of the day.
Flight # and time: 1888 - 627pm 979 - 839pm 1605 - 1013pm (my birthday, lucky numbers for me) 542 - 1221am
Harry said it wasn't my fault as well. When he first figured out what happened, he was completely confused as to why they would ever do that. Because literally it makes no sense to send someone's luggage to a place that they are not going anymore.
"You're not going to Texas at all?" He asked.
"No. And I told them that when I called them last night. I told them I can't fly on Saturday. I have no place to stay tonight."
Not one of my friends had ever heard of a bag cancellation but that was the story half of the people working there were still going with, but even Harry said that didn't make sense. They were just making it up and trying to gaslight me into believing it. I was so tired of being lied to at that point, but at least Harry seemed to be on my side.
Half of the employees were acting like it was my fault that I didn't cancel the bag when I canceled the ticket. One even looked at me and said, "That was a really dumb move on your part, wasn't it?"
But when Harry looked at what had happened he just kind of sighed, rolled his eyes and said "I really wish people would check what they were doing before they put stuff on the plane" like he knew that what they had done was messed up. If it's my fault that this happened, then what did they have to check? And in what world does it make sense to fly a bag somewhere that someone isn't going? There is literally no reason why that would happen other than it was a mistake.
Harry mentioned that I was being "especially patient considering you've been here all day". But did I have much of a choice? But it did a lot to point out that I was being reasonable while everyone else I talked to all day continued to yell at me, act dismissive and roll their eyes when I asked for help.
Due to all the stress, the waiting, the confusion, the gaslighting and the exhaustion, I was just about losing it. Maybe the real trip was the mind we lost along the way ....
However, since I still had several hours of waiting for my bag left to go and I found out the Raleigh buses were free, I decided to go tour Raleigh as if I was in Texas. No amount of bullsh*t can stop Adventure Girl!
First stop - a burrito place my friend Sandra told me about! I might as well try the Tex Mex while I was in fake Texas. Pullen Park became the San Antonio Riverwalk. A spanish church was a stand-in for a spanish mission. The horses on the antique carousel? Well, obviously, Texas is known for its horses! I passed an Alamo car rental and I was pretty damn sure I was going to remember this Alamo -- and this entire nightmare of a trip!
When I got back to the airport, I talked to Harry again. No bag yet. The first flight and first chance was no dice. There were five other flights that night, with a new one added with connection in Charlotte. So the saga continued, but I kept track of the possible flights and times:
Flight - Time 979 - 8:39pm 522 - 10:10pm 1605 - 1013pm 1374 - 12:00am 542 - 12:21am
Harry said as long as none of the flights cancelled I had a good shot of at least getting it that night. He said Dallas didn't seem to be checking any of his messages though. I asked if there was a number I could call over there, but he said I had "a better chance of talking to the President of the United States" since Dallas was a utter mess that day, and possibly just because people at airlines are completely unreachable.
Harry seemed pissed that the folks who loaded my suitcase weren't paying attention to what they were doing. He gave me a phone number to call so I could check back in without having to go down to baggage claim every time, but there was not much point in leaving the airport since it was so late. I didn't want to be walking around Raleigh late at night. He also asked me to take a nap in the car once I get in the car, and I was like "I'd have to get IN the car first" and he was like "we'll get you in the car, don't worry about that." So maybe that was a good sign?
But he also asked if I knew anyone in the Raleigh area. I told him I lived two and a half hours away in Richmond and his face fell. So maybe that was a bad sign?
Harry said his shift ended at 7:00, so I was prepared for a new baggage supervisor to deal with eventually. I was not prepared for the new guy to be as much of a jerk as he was though.
The new Baggage Supervisor said that he had no idea where my bag was, it was "probably" in Dallas and he had no idea when I was getting it back. He didn't have time for any questions and didn't care at all. I really started to wonder if not caring at all and being generally rude to customers was a trait that American Airlines looked for in their employees during the hiring process.
I asked the new Baggage Supervisor who the supervisor was there and he just replied really snottily, "I AM the supervisor. You would be talking to me."
Okay, sir, but I'm pretty sure you don't own American Airlines. Like whoever owns American Airlines is probably on a yacht somewhere not giving a fk about their customers, while he was right there in front of me not giving a fk about their customers -- it was that slight difference that made me question his assertion that he was the only person I could speak to. I mean, if you are the top of the chain here, why are you working in baggage? Is this a weird hobby of yours? Just point me to who writes your checks, okay thanks.
He told me that it's "normal procedure" to send a bag without a person going to the city on domestic flights, and only on international flights would it be a problem if the person was not on the same flight, which seems hella racist, but okay. Terrorists can be on domestic flights too, you know. But I still didn't understand how they kept saying that sending a bag to another city when that person had canceled their flight and would not arrive in that city at any point was normal. This is not normal behavior, American Airlines. What were you expecting to happen? Who did you think was going to pick it up?
Again, I asked to speak to a supervisor because none of this made any lick of sense.
He finally relented and said I could go speak to the supervisor at the ticketing counter who was above him. It was about 9pm at this point, and I really wish I had gotten the name of the really obnoxious woman supervisor at the American Airlines counter I talked to next. Customer service at this point was atrocious, but she took the absolute cake.
First the supervisor woman at ticketing told me that the airline could not do anything because the first cancellation was an act of God and the second cancellation was on me because I told them I wouldn't go on Saturday if they had canceled Friday, but I never consented to flying on Saturday and I had no way to stay in Raleigh to wait for that flight. They were taking absolutely no accountability for this. None. I heard nothing all day from anyone other than Harry but victim blaming. They could ship my bag off to god knows where and then it was my fault and they couldn't offer any explanations, any apologies, any accountability.
She just said I should know that canceling a flight doesn't mean that the bag gets canceled. But no one else believes that a bag cancellation even exists. It was starting to get darker and darker, night was setting in and I was wondering where I was going to sleep that night and she didn't seem to care at all. How was I going to sleep in the airport without my stuff being stolen when I was there alone? I was a single female, traveling alone, and getting scapegoated by the airline that had shipped my luggage off without checking to see that I wasn't going to be traveling with it. And it was somehow, supposedly, all my fault.
It was turning into a nightmare scenario. My bag is not on any of those flights. They didn't know when they were sending it back. She said they might need to mail it back to me. She looked bored and like she wanted to go off shift and just shrugged and said, "It could take days, weeks, you may never get it back. The best thing you can do is go home and wait for it."
Again, feeling like I was going absolutely mad, I reiterated the fact, "I. Can't. Go. Home. My. Keys. Are. In. That. Bag."
She said the airline couldn't comp me a meal, or a motel room (I wasn't asking for much, I'm not picky, just a roof, a $50 motel where you can hear gun shots would be fine). She just continued to tell me that it was all my fault. I shouldn't have put my keys in my luggage and she really needed to go off shift, why was I bothering her?
"You know," she said, "You're not the only one waiting for their bag. Dallas is a mess right now. You're just going to have to wait."
"Okay," I said, "I get that I shouldn't be allowed to skip the line, and that getting Johnny's shorts back to him is important, but. I. AM. THE. ONLY. PERSON. STRANDED. IN. YOUR. AIRPORT. CURRENTLY. FORCED. TO. LIVE. IN. TERMINAL. TWO. Maybe we can triage the situation and deal with the emergencies that are in front of us first?"
"Like I said," she reiterated. "You really should just go home."
I felt like I was losing my mind. "I. CAN'T."
The situation had gotten so desperate that I said exasperatedly maybe I should just fly to Dallas and pick up the bag myself. And the supervisor was muttered "that's not a bad idea, at least you wouldn't be in front of me". Like literally that was an actual plan. Because they couldn't just send the bag back on the next plane. But then we both realized that the bag was probably not even in baggage claim, it's probably stuck in the system backstage somewhere.
I called up my friend Joe Gergis, because after being at the airport for two days, patiently waiting for my bag to get back, seeing all the flights that it could have been on and getting talked to by these employees as if I was a nuisance when they were the ones who had taken my bag and shipped it off to parts completely unknown, I was just absolutely losing it. While the lady brushed me off to help another customer, I had a complete melt down with Joe on the line, screaming about the utter insanity I had been forced to deal with all day, the unhelpfulness, the gaslighting, the victim blaming, the sheer fact that I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do now.
I was honestly terrified. I was in shock. I was stranded at the airport and none of the people who stranded me there gave a damn.
Like why would they make a policy where they can just send the bag wherever. It doesn't make sense if the person isn't going on the flight, why would they want their bag there?? Make it make sense.
But they were still claiming that it was my fault because I shouldn't have put my keys in my checked luggage. And I should have canceled my bag. Even though I didn't realize that the cancellation didn't work for both of those things, my ticket and my bag.
And I didn't know if I could get any kind of refund because they were claiming that the first cancellation was an act of God which they claim no responsibility for, and then the second cancellation was me saying if you can't fly me on Friday I literally can't fly on Saturday.
I still had to figure out a way to get a key for my car. It the lady was telling me it might take weeks to get the bag back, what the hell was I going to do? Joe tried to calm me down the best he could, but people were starring at me on the phone as I paced and yelled during my utter meltdown and panic attack. I was screaming and crying and causing a scene because no one at that airport was helping me at all.
Everyone at American Airlines has been yelling at me, telling me it's my fault, gaslighting me, and telling me that there's nothing they can do and they don't know when the situation is ever going to get fixed.
After about 20 minutes, the lady was done helping the other customer. So I went up to talk to her and she was just, "if you want me to help you, you better not bring any of that attitude over here. I will talk to you but I will not deal with that nonsense." And because I was so frazzled by her basically yelling at me at that point, I asked Joe to help me talk to her because I didn't even know what I was supposed to be asking her at that point. My brain was just completely fried. So he asked her two questions, trying to figure out what our next move was. And then she said "you get three questions, those were your first two." Like I'm sorry, you stranded me in a foreign city at the airport and have absolutely no issue with any of this, and now you are saying that we only get three questions like you're some God damn genie or something. Our last question was who can we speak to that's above her basically, and that's when she gave us the number to what I believe is customer service? At least she said that it was someone to speak to above her.
Joe was a godsend because he realized how much I was flipping out and how I couldn't sleep in the airport all night. He managed to get me a hotel room with some credit card points he had and told me to go get the shuttle outside. We were done talking to the supervisor woman, she was absolutely no help and was actively making the situation all that much worse.
I couldn't believe that almost every single one of the American Airline employees had been yelling at me all day (except Harry). Like they really didn't care. At all. It was clearly obvious. It was disgusting. The fact that anyone would treat their customers that way is really messed up. The fact that they would treat another human being like this was appalling.
Me and Joe talked a bit about how I was going to need to get a key made for my car the next day just to go home. But honestly, with my brain fried, he said the most important things for me to do right then was to eat some dinner, shower and sleep.
The transportation dude from the Fairfield Marriot picked me up and I must have looked haggard because he asked me what was going on. I told him everything and he was shocked. He told me the airline obviously messed up and this was the biggest nonsense he'd heard from them in a long while. He was such a sweet gentleman. I was almost in shock just being treated so kindly after dealing with American Airlines jerks all day. I could have cried just by that simple kindness.
When I got to the Fairfield, Kelli (who had spoken to Joe and got the whole story from him) greeted me warmly, asking if I needed anything, showing me human kindness and courtesy. I told her that being there felt like coming home after being through a huge battle.
"Don't you worry, baby girl, we got you," she said and again I just wanted to cry in relief. But the sheer fact that American Airlines could not show me any kind of sympathy after they fked up, but that hotel was so gentle and empathetic was a startling contrast. One of those companies cares about its customers and the other just wants to take their money, screw them over and victim blame them. The transport dude even offered to buy me McDonald's when I couldn't remember the last time I ate.
I still didn't know what I going to do, but the transportation dude told me, "I know you're in a bit of a pickle right now, but things will turn out all right. You just gotta see what happens tomorrow."
That hope was all I had to hold onto, but I still didn't know what was I going to do. The situation just kept getting deeper and deeper. The hotel staff and Joe all told me to sleep, but I was freaked and ended up just pacing a lot until the wee hours. I was worried I was never getting home, my cats only had food until Tuesday/Wednesday, and I would lose my job if I didn't get back to work soon. I just felt like I was running out of time and options, and the airline kept showing me they didn't care and telling me it was all my fault. Their gaslighting, condescending tone and unhelpful behavior was wearing me out. I was breaking down. I felt so alone, out of my depths and like the airline could have done all these simple, easy things for me and they couldn't care enough to help me out of the situation that they caused by being careless with my luggage.
I just wanted to go home. I laid in bed shaking while trying to sleep and it hit me that this was me being absolutely terrified. I figured if it was going to take weeks to get out of this situation, something big was going to have to give out, I was going to lose either my car, my cats, my job or my sanity.
I cried myself to sleep that night.
The next morning, I woke up and tried the phone number to baggage Harry had given me. He answered, checked my tag and said he finally had good news! He said my bag was coming in on the 11:30 flight! Harry was so happy for me. We love Harry, heh.
I talked to Harry when I got to the airport. He rechecked my tag and confirmed the flight it was on just landed and my bag was on it. He seemed pissed on my behalf, said none of this was my fault and caulked it up to "laziness". Pure laziness. He said he's been back and forth with these people for months now. He was shocked at how I said I was treated and said I never should have been talked to that way. He gave me the website to file a complaint. Several people were telling me to hit them where it hurts is social media, so I guess that's my next step. Gotta annoy the hell out of them on social media until this policy changes and I get some kind of compensation for what they put me through and the way they talked to their paying customer.
Then I waited for my bag, and when I first saw it come off the baggage belt, I scooped it up and fell on the floor crying. I was overwhelmed with relief, sitting there shaking, crying, hugging it. American Airlines had also unzipped it a bit, but thankfully the keys were still in it.
I could just picture my suitcase saying, "I know you're still upset about not getting to go on vacation, but let me tell you about MY trip..."
I ran over to Harry's office, peaking my head in, grinning ear to ear and told him, "I got my bag back, Harry! I'm going home, I'M GOING HOME!!!" In retrospect, it's really sad when the best thing you can say about an airline is it finally let you go home, but Harry was really happy for me.
On the way home, I had to stop for four hours to fix the donut of a flat tire on my car, and I just had a good long time to think about the utter nonsense that I had just experienced over the past 50 hours of my life, the non-trip, the gaslighting, the unprofessional behavior from more of the American Airlines employees, they way they implied that the situation wasn't as bad as I was making out to be, how stranded I had felt and how I didn't know why they all hated me.
In fact, at one point during all of this, I remember I had thought of going up to the woman with the bronze twists and apologizing to her for I don't even know what, because I had been so helpless and I was willing to do whatever I could to get her to see that I didn't intend to upset her, I was just in a helpless situation and I really needed some support from the staff. I had been willing to grovel for their help because that's how stranded and attacked I had been feeling. I don't think it would have helped though, because the whole time I was doubted and shown no empathy at all.
If they had only said 'wow, we messed up, but we're going to take care of you until we fix our mistake' I would have been able to let this go. To be attacked continuously by these employees and their utter rudeness all weekend just added to the stress I was already feeling. I felt like there was no one I could turn to and my concerns were completely ignored. Oh I'm so sorry, my terror and panic were bothering them. The staff truly needs to receive training on handling customer issues with some kind of empathy and clarity.
I am still going to see if American Airlines can compensate me for any of this nonsense in the form of a refund for my flight ticket, any kind of reimbursement or compensation for the undue stress and inconvenience they caused, but given their stellar customer service so far, I don't know how far I will be able to get with them. So my other alternative is to share this with social media and also to reach out to aviation regulatory bodies if I don't receive a satisfactory response from the airline. People should know who they're dealing with when they fly with American Airlines.
And above all, I would like a formal apology, because this was an utter nightmare that left me traumatized and terrified. I should never have been left to fend for my own after their egregious laziness caused such a massive mistake. Everyone I have talked to about this so far seems to be in consensus that this is absolutely appalling customer service and several have said they will not fly American Airlines ever again after hearing the whole ordeal. If American Airlines is going to ignore me and dismiss me, I have no problem speaking the truth about them, even if it hurts their reputation and their bottom line.

“It’s like finding a needle in a haystack.” Kate remarked, hands tucked against her hips as she watched all the wannabe villains trudge their way down the stairs, tossing each other aside, competing to be the first to reach the pile of rings.
“Or like finding a ring in a ring stack.” Alex beamed, ruining Kate’s analogy entirely. Kate stared his way, unable to believe this was the man who created thousands of replica rings. Sure, they lacked the power of the original one, but who could tell from only a glance?
After their stairway scuffle, a villain had emerged victorious. Bloodshredder slipped his finger into the first ring he found, turning his mohawk hot pink. There was a bout of laughter from the other villains, one even tripping down the stairs as he attempted to hold his stomach in his hysterics.
Bloodshredder pointed the ringed finger at the group. “WHAT’S SO FUNNI? YOU WANNA DIE, PUNKS?” Bloodshredder’s threat was enough to silence them, no one wanting their blood or any other body parts shredded by the man who could turn his hands into rotating blades.
Since he couldn’t see his own mohawk, many elected not to tell him about it, leaving him to his own delusions. “I GOT THE RING. RING RING, MIGHTY BLOODSHREDDER HERE.” He taunted, pretending to answer a non existent telephone. “You will all fear me soon, for the ring is pumping its power into my veins as we speak.” He shoved his way up the stairs, confused by all the snickers he was attracting.
Madam Hotshot rested a heart decorated glove on her lips, giving Bloodshredder a sideways glance as he left. “Now that the boneheads left, I’ll be taking the real ring, my lovelies.” She sauntered past the group, crouching in the knee deep pile of rings. After fidgeting with them, she slipped one onto her finger, watching it sparkle. “Dazzling. A sparkle like that could only belong to the ring of conquers. What do you all think?” She swung her hip, posing in the pile.
The group of villains stared at her in awe. She was glowing. Literally, she was glowing. A soft golden hue that she couldn’t notice. When no one said a word, she blew a kiss, walking past them. “Don’t feel bad. Lady luck has always been on my side.” Reaching the top of the staircase, she patted both Kate and Alex on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll remember you two heroes when I conquer the world. Since you both gave me the opportunity to reach my potential, I’ll give you a nice little reward. Maybe an apartment or something.” She mused before leaving.
“An apartment sounds nice.” Alex admitted, only for Kate to raise her eyebrow at him. “Not that I would ever take that type of deal. I’m a good guy.”
“Of course you are. So, how many rings are actually down there?” Kate whispered.
“I stopped counting. After fifty thousand and something, I lost track of where I was. It was hard thinking of all these different curses. I had to get creative.”
The elderly villain, Samson Adams, poked a ring with his walking stick, accidentally hooking it on the bottom of the stick. “I am the new god of humanity. I provide oxygen and I can take it away.” The walking stick spoke, getting a set of comically large red lips. The lips having the appearance of the ones you would find in a pair of gummy candies. Samson screamed as his walking stick bit him, leaving the old man off balance as the stick freed itself from his hold. Samson wobbled before succumbing to his fall, collapsing into the rings, sending them scattering amongst the pile. It took the effort of two other villains to free the walking stick of the ring, returning it to normal.
This trend continued until no one was left, with everyone taking their chosen ring and leaving. Even after the forty or so villains had left, the pile on the floor hadn’t moved an inch, still an ocean of silver. Kate patted Alex on the shoulder, having to admit that his plan worked. “So, where’s the actual ring?”
Alex smiled before shrugging. “Dunno. I had to erase my memory of that so none of the villains could interrogate me for it. The first thing they did when they found out I had the ring was bring someone here with mind reading powers. You should have seen the looks on their faces when they realized I didn’t actually know where it was. I assume it’s somewhere safe, though.”
“Somewhere safe. That’s not really that reassuring.”
“Look, this buys us time, at the very least. By the time someone finds it, we will have a way of countering it. There’s no such thing as a perfect plan, is there?”
“Guess not.” Kate admitted, feeling tempted to try on a few of those rings herself. Not because she wanted the grand power that was promised, but more because she wanted to see what weird things they would do. Resisting the urge, she went to head back to the hero’s headquarters. “I should get going. They only sent me here to keep an eye on things. Let us know if someone finds the actual ring.”
“Will do. See ya, Kate.” He waved her off, wondering where he even put that stupid ring. It had to be somewhere safe where no one could find it. But where was that?
Inside a quaint little home on the other side of the world sat Alex’s great grandmother, Lily Hazelwas. The old woman rocking in her chair, with a silver ring sitting on her thin finger. She stopped mid-rock to admire the birthday present Alex had given her before smiling. “Urthgard, the destroyer guardian, could you be a dear and get me some tea?”
The behemoth of a monster dragged its spiked club into the living room, breathing heavily through its helmet. “I am Urthgard, the destroyer, and guardian of the wielder of the ring. I am made for battle, war, and bloodshed. Tea is not a battle, nor does it sate my thirst for the blood of my fallen enemies.”
“Would a lemon drop candy sate your thirst for blood?” Lily asked, getting one from her purse. She dropped it into the heavy, calloused hand of the guardian, who slowly clenched his palm around it. “That is an acceptable tribute. Urthgard likes having fresh breath.” Dragging his club towards the kitchen, Urthgard went to prepare the tea.

Hello! My name is Joey, I’m a 20 y/o trans guy seeking housing in the Boston area (or surrounding areas such as Somerville, Cambridge, etc.) so I can be closer to work + my doctor’s office! A place on the Green, Orange, and/or Red lines is ideal.
I currently live in Winchester and am looking to move out of my mom's house to be on my own for the first time! I'm disabled and can't work full time (I work part-time currently, 26 hours a week) so my budget isn't high, the highest I can go is $1000 (with utilities included). There is some wiggle room if the cost of utilities raises the price to somewhere in between $1000-$1050. I am more introverted, but I can be social as well in small groups! I mostly just like to work on my creative things when i’m home (art, writing, etc). I am a big fan of fantasy media, reptiles, bowling, and photography!
Pets: I am afraid of dogs, so l am not willing to rent a room where a dog might be living there, cats are fine though. I do not have any pets myself but I would like to get a lizard in the future!
Accessibility: The most I can do is one flight of stairs. If the building has multiple floors, an elevator would be extremely helpful. I would also like to mention that I have extreme sensitivity to strong smells. I am also sensitive to the smell of popcorn.
I need to move into a place by July 1st and no later since my mom’s current lease is ending on that date. If you have a room available and think I may be a good fit, please message me! I am ideally looking to sign a year-long lease or do a sublet-to-lease. If you have a place with an August 1st or September 1st move in I will also consider it!
Additional note: I have no credit, but I can provide references who can advocate for me!

Anyone have recommendations for wide panel Mohawk engineered hardwood with at least 4mm veneer? I am looking for something similar to https://kentwoodfloors.com/us/our-floors/showroom/brushed-oak-wine-cellar . Or any other product recommendations that are non-Mohawk in similar price ranges are welcome.

I know Mohawk's Revwood line is supposedly very clean in terms of VOCs - but what about the one Mohawk Home sells at Costco.product.4000052308.html?preselect=manufacturer+color%3alakeridge+oak)? Their FAQ sheet only says that they comply with laws and regulations in the US. Anyone know?

The double doors part and in strolls Biden, aviators, bomber jacket, loaded 1911 on his hip, safety off; heavy duffel bag over his shoulder.
“I wondered when I’d be seeing you,” says Time Cop Quartermaster Lucius Fox, without taking his eyes off the lathe.
Biden flicks his chin at Fox, who looks and sounds exactly like Morgan Freeman, but whose name and likeness are purely coincidentally similar to any real Morgan Freemans or copyrighted Lucius Foxes.
“She ready?” Biden pulls a hanging chain, lifting the tarp off the Time Harley 3.0.
Fox shuts down the lathe and unscrews the clamp, removing a small cylinder, which he blows on and rubs with a handkerchief.
He sticks the piece in the bespoke hole at the top of the engine and the Time Harley’s navigation matrix hums to life.
“As always,” says Lucius. “She’ll take you anywhen you need to go.”
Biden inspects the handlebars, the saddle, the new loops on the sides of the steering column.
“One for a spare winchester, one for the katana, plus an extra large cupholder on each side,” Fox says, his cat eyes flashing a smile.
Biden unslings the duffel and drops it to the floor. It rattles a chorus of tactical sounds, like Joe had dropped an entire movie SWAT team.
“What was that clinking in there?” Fox asks as Biden squats unzips the bag.
Not for nothing but Biden is jacked. He looks like he can squat a slug bug. His slacks aren’t slack. He pulls out an envelope full of cash.
“For your trouble,” he says, returning to the bag for the source of the noise Fox had noticed: a pair of M67 hand grenades and bottle of Tequila, the latter of which he hands it off to Fox. “For my friend.”
“Thank you Mr. Biden,” says Fox.

This is actually PureTech by mohawk which is similar to LVP. I just had it installed a few hours ago. There are a few very noticeable dips. This one is the worst, but there are a couple of others that are pretty bad too. This is in a basement over concrete (there was carpet here). The contract says they will evaluate floor base to ensure it is flat enough for manufacturer specs, and if not, will discuss cost for leveling. They didn't mention anything. Will this settle or is it fucked?

First / Previous / Royal Road / Patreon (Read 12 Chapters Ahead)

A short while later, Alain and Felix came marching out of the gun store, both of them sporting new bandoleers filled with shotgun shells. Felix had slung his Winchester rifle and instead opted to carry a double-barrel coach gun, similar to Alain's. The two of them walked through town shoulder-to-shoulder, until they reached Sable and Az, who were waiting for them.
"Took you both long enough," Sable said, impatient.
"Can't rush the art of reloading, Sable," Alain replied. "Are we ready?"

Az nodded. "We've already told the townspeople to hold here and prepare for a fight in case things go belly-up down there. There shouldn't be very many surprises."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Felix questioned. "Let's go."
With that, the four of them headed for the mines. There was no resistance on the way there – rather, it was deathly quiet. Alain couldn't help but tense as the silence washed over him. Eventually, though, they reached the opening to the mines, then after a brief moment to collect themselves, pushed in.
There were a few undead still wandering through the mine shafts, but Az and Sable made quick work of them as they all advanced. Within just a few minutes, they reached the barrier once more.
"You all ready?" Alain asked.
"Just do it," Sable commanded.
He nodded, then broke open his shotgun and replaced the shells full of buckshot with the ammunition that he and Felix had reloaded. A pull of his gun's dual triggers fired both barrels simultaneously, sending chunks of sharpened bone screaming towards the barrier. They made impact, and there was a loud sound like glass shattering as the barrier broke. Alain stood there for a moment, stunned that it had actually worked, only to snap out of it as the others rushed past him. He hastily reloaded his shotgun, then moved in after them.
They all advanced down yet another mine shaft, though this one was completely barren of any undead. Still, they moved cautiously, unwilling to risk stumbling into an ambush. As they descended down, it got progressively darker, with only wall-mounted torches to light their way; Felix took one down and held it in his off-hand, illuminating the path forward as they walked.
Alain couldn't help but note that the floor underneath their feet was stained with dried blood, as if a body or several had been dragged across the ground.
As they drew closer, Alain heard it – a young woman's muffled cries and pleas, followed by the baying of a small crowd. His eyes widened, and he rushed forwards with his gun already in his shoulder. The path ahead was suddenly illuminated with a wide array of torches, and he barreled on without a care, finally emerging into a large chamber.
He only made it about three steps into the room when he felt cold metal against the back of his head, followed by the telltale click of a revolver's hammer being cocked back. His eyes narrowed, even as his grip on his shotgun slackened.
"Ansley," he guessed.
"Wrong," an unfamiliar voice answered with a sneer.
"Tobias, now is not the time to play with your food," Ansley called from off in the distance. "Our time draws short."
Alain turned towards him, and his breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Ansley was dressed in a set of blood red robes and standing over a stone altar, a bloodstained dagger held in his hand. Just underneath him, a young woman clad in only her undergarments was chained to a stone slab, her bonds rattling as she attempted to free herself, to no avail. The slab underneath her was already soaked with crimson. Behind Ansley, Alain could see several wooden caskets piled up.
"So, this is what you've been doing," Alain noted. "Ritualistic sacrifices?"
"How astute of you," Ansley said dryly. "I'll admit, you've been quite the thorn in my side – you and your little entourage, that is. I was hoping those bandits would take care of you or at least keep you busy enough that you wouldn't be a problem anymore, but I can see now that I severely underestimated you."
"Enough with this," Alain replied. "I know what you're after – you want to make yourself immortal."
A grin split Ansley's face. "Talked to Xavier, did you? The old man always was too honest for his own good. But still, that's only half of the plan."
"And the other half?"
"You're a smart man. Look around you, see what you can figure out."
Alain blinked, then did as he was told. He was stunned to find a small crowd of six people gathered nearby, all of them dressed in fancy-looking outfits and adorned with expensive-looking jewelry. His eyes narrowed, and he turned back to Ansley.
"So that's what this is about," Alain ventured. "I'll admit, I'm disappointed."
"Are you, now?"
"I am. Your ledger made it sound so simple. I'm ashamed to know that it really is that simple, after all. Despite everything you've done, all the evil you've committed, it ultimately comes down to nothing more than money."
"Of course it does," Ansley told him. "It all comes back to the almighty dollar. That's how I attracted these people here, anyway – with promises of gold and wealth beyond their wildest dreams. Imagine my surprise when I ran into the old man, and discovered there was something far more valuable than gold that I could sell to these people."
He ran his thumb along the blunt edge of the dagger. The bound girl stared at the blade, her eyes wide and her chest heaving with panicked gasps. Ansley brought a hand up and ran it through her hair.
"Shh, my dear," he urged. "It will all be over soon."
Footsteps from behind him caught Alain's attention, but he didn't dare turn around with the revolver still pressed to the base of his skull. Ansley, however, stood up straighter, glaring into the darkness of the mine shaft.
"Unless you want to see your friend's brains painted across the stone, you'll stop where you are and hang back," he warned.
All three of them immediately froze where they stood. Sable leveled a glare at Ansley from just outside the entrance to the room.
"Foolish mortal," she said. "You have no idea the kind of powers you're meddling with by doing this."
"On the contrary, my dear – I know exactly what the consequences are for doing this. Why do you think I'm so dead-set on seeing it through to the end?" Ansley shook his head. "But enough talk. It's good that you four showed up – you'll get to see our rebirth… and at the end of it all, you will be the first ones to be brushed aside by us as we usher in a new age."
Ansley suddenly raised the dagger, the point aimed square at the young woman's heart. Her eyes widened and she thrashed against the stone slab, desperate to free herself from her restraints, but it was no use. The blade glinted in the torchlight as it came down hard enough to pierce straight through her ribcage. Her body tensed, but then slackened a second later as the breath left her.
For a moment, nothing happened, even as Ansley roughly removed the blood-soaked dagger with a sickening squelch. But as Alain watched, the shadows in the room began to shift. They elongated, creeping out from the corners they'd been banished to by the firelight, steadily reaching towards Ansley. He eyed them with a wild, wide grin.
"Yes!" he proclaimed. "I knew it would work!"
Alain watched as several of the shadows diverted course, splitting off from the one headed towards Ansley. One of them began to move towards him, and for a brief instant, he was worried that it would make contact with him, but it didn't – instead, it bypassed him entirely, aiming for Tobias.
"Fascinating…" Alain heard him mutter under his breath. "This is simply div-"
Before he could finish his sentence, the shadow suddenly retracted into itself, then shot forward as a large, jagged spike. It passed just above Alain's shoulder, causing him to flinch when he felt it barely graze his ear. Behind him, he heard Tobias give out a sick-sounding gurgle, followed by his revolver clattering to the ground. Alain instantly rounded on him, pulling his Colt from its holster as he did so, and was stunned to see Tobias lying there, the shadow steadily worming its way into his body through a hole in his throat. Tobias thrashed, his eyes going wide with fear and panic as the blackness forced itself into him. As Alain watched, Tobias' body began to change, steadily going from human to some kind of darkened shadow creature. His whole body began to contort and shift; his bones shattered and cracked as they were reshaped and molded, blood leaking from the myriad fractures erupting throughout his body.
He never got to finish his transformation, however – Az suddenly stepped forward and stomped on his head, crushing it underneath his heel. That shook Alain out of his stupor, and he turned towards Az, who stared back at him with razor-sharp focus.
"If you all have any sense, you'll take out the rest before they can finish shifting," he growled.
That was all Alain needed to hear. He scooped up his Ithaca shotgun, then raised it to his shoulder as he advanced. The other members of Ansley's inner circle were currently suffering the same fate Tobias had, with all of them in various states of transformation; Alain took aim at the nearest one and blasted him with both barrels, which instantly stopped the transformation and killed the unfortunate host.
There was a sudden rush of wind from next to him as Sable and Az advanced, leaping from person to person in an attempt to stop them before they could fully transform. Felix stepped up next to him as he reloaded and took out another person with his own shotgun before dropping back to load.
"What is this…?" Ansley asked as he backed up into a corner, several shadows advancing upon him. His eyes widened as they drew closer, and he pulled a revolver from his holster and began to fire at them. Several of the shadows went down, but the remainder suddenly split into multitudes, all of them continuing to move towards him. Ansley screamed as he fanned his revolver's hammer, but eventually, it ran dry.
And the moment it did, the shadows pounced.
Alain could only watch as the shadows all piled onto Ansley, who disappeared beneath the pulsating mass of darkness with a muffled scream that was cut short. He only stopped and stared for a moment, however, before Az and Sable came running up to him.
"We need to leave, now!" Sable warned.
Alain was about to ask what she was talking about when he saw several of the shadows suddenly pull away from the pile atop Ansley and begin to move towards the four of them. Without a word, he nodded, and then they all took off running towards the entrance of the mine.
As they ran, the shadows followed. Thinking quickly, Alain pulled a lantern from the walls and shattered it, slathering the ground behind them with oil; in the same motion, he pulled a match from his pocket and struck it, then tossed it back at the oil-slick ground. Flames erupted in the center of the mine shaft, and by the looks of things, his intuition had been correct – the shadows reeled from the sudden onslaught of heat and light, enabling the four of them to continue sprinting back to the entrance unimpeded.
They emerged from the depths of the mine and back onto the world above just as the sun began to crest over the horizon. Alain doubled over, his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath, but it only lasted a moment before someone rested a hand on his shoulder.
"Look sharp," Felix warned.
"What do you-"
Alain's statement was interrupted by the sound of several dozen guns being readied. He paused, then looked up, and was stunned to see an entire US Army cavalry detachment standing there, their guns pointed at the four of them. Sheepishly, he raised his hands in surrender.
"Army's here," was all he managed to get out before they approached him and threw a burlap sack over his head, then began to muscle him away.

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, Ickbard for the help with writing this story.

The global vinyl flooring market is expected to witness a substantial CAGR of over 7.1% during the forecast period from 2024 to 2030. This growth is propelled by various factors, including the durability, affordability, and ease of maintenance associated with vinyl flooring, rendering it an appealing choice for both residential and commercial settings. Furthermore, advancements in vinyl flooring technology, notably the introduction of luxury vinyl tiles (LVT) and enhancements in aesthetics, have bolstered its attractiveness by providing a diverse array of design options that closely resemble natural materials such as wood and stone.
To know more about this study, request a free sample report @ https://www.researchcorridor.com/request-sample/?id=13219
Market Drivers:
Durability and Longevity: Vinyl flooring is renowned for its durability and longevity, making it a popular choice for high-traffic areas in both residential and commercial spaces. Its resistance to scratches, stains, and wear ensures that vinyl flooring maintains its appearance and performance over time, reducing the need for frequent replacement.
Affordability: Vinyl flooring offers a cost-effective solution compared to other flooring options such as hardwood or ceramic tile. Its relatively lower installation and maintenance costs make it an attractive choice for budget-conscious consumers and businesses looking to achieve a stylish and durable flooring solution without breaking the bank.
Ease of Maintenance: Vinyl flooring requires minimal maintenance, offering hassle-free cleaning and upkeep compared to other flooring materials. Its smooth, non-porous surface makes it resistant to moisture, spills, and stains, allowing for easy cleaning with simple mopping or sweeping, thus appealing to busy homeowners and commercial property owners.
Versatility in Design: Advancements in vinyl flooring technology have expanded design possibilities, offering a wide range of colors, patterns, and textures to suit various aesthetic preferences and interior design styles. Luxury vinyl tiles (LVT) and vinyl plank flooring closely mimic the look and feel of natural materials like wood and stone, providing consumers with versatile design options at a fraction of the cost.
Water Resistance: Vinyl flooring is inherently water-resistant, making it an ideal choice for areas prone to moisture exposure such as kitchens, bathrooms, and basements. Its ability to withstand moisture without warping or damage enhances its durability and longevity, making it a practical flooring solution for residential and commercial spaces alike.
Market Opportunities:
The vinyl flooring market presents numerous opportunities for growth and innovation driven by several key factors. With the increasing demand for durable, affordable, and aesthetically pleasing flooring solutions, vinyl flooring manufacturers have the opportunity to capitalize on consumer preferences for versatile and low-maintenance flooring options. Advancements in vinyl flooring technology, including the development of luxury vinyl tiles (LVT) and enhanced design options, provide opportunities to cater to diverse aesthetic preferences and interior design trends. Additionally, the rising awareness of environmental sustainability and the demand for eco-friendly flooring alternatives create opportunities for manufacturers to develop and promote environmentally responsible vinyl flooring products made from recycled materials and low-VOC formulations.
According to the recent report published by RC Market Analytics, the Global Vinyl Flooring Market is expected to provide sustainable growth opportunities during the forecast period from 2024 to 2030. This latest industry research study analyzes the vinyl flooring market by various product segments, applications, regions and countries while assessing regional performances of numerous leading market participants. The report offers a holistic view of the vinyl flooring industry encompassing numerous stakeholders including raw material suppliers, providers, distributors, consumers and government agencies, among others. Furthermore, the report includes detailed quantitative and qualitative analysis of the global market considering market history, product development, regional dynamics, competitive landscape, and key success factors (KSFs) in the industry.
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Geographically, the vinyl flooring market report comprises dedicated sections centering on the regional market revenue and trends. The vinyl flooring market has been segmented on the basis of geographic regions into North America, Europe, Asia Pacific, Latin America, and the Middle East & Africa. Vinyl flooring market estimates have also been provided for the historical years 2020 to 2023 along with forecast for the period from 2024 - 2030.The report includes a deep-dive analysis of key countries including the U.S., Canada, the U.K., Germany, France, Italy, China, Japan, India, Australia, Mexico, Brazil and South Africa, among others. Thereby, the report identifies unique growth opportunities across the world based on trends occurring in various developed and developing economies.
The Vinyl Flooring Market Segmentation:

By Product Type:

• Vinyl Sheets
• Vinyl Tiles
• Luxury Vinyl Tiles

By Application:

• Residential
• Commercial

B Region:

• North America
• Europe
• Asia Pacific
• Latin America
• Middle East & Africa

Among the notable players in the global vinyl flooring market are Mohawk Industries, Shaw Industries, Tarkett S.A., Armstrong Flooring, Inc., and Mannington Mills. These companies are actively pursuing market expansion, new investments, service innovations, and collaborative ventures as their primary strategies. Additionally, they are strategically leveraging expansion initiatives and acquisitions to explore new geographical territories and achieve synergistic growth, thereby enhancing their competitive edge in the market.
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Key Questions Answered by Vinyl Flooring Market Report:

• Product popularity and adoption based on various country-level dynamics
• Regional presence and product development for leading market participants
• Market forecasts and trend analysis based on ongoing investments and economic growth in key countries
• Competitive landscape based on revenue, product offerings, years of presence, number of employees and market concentration, among others
• Various industry models such as SWOT analysis, Pestle Analysis, Porter’s Five Force model, Value Chain Analysis pertaining to Vinyl Flooring market
• Analysis of the key factors driving and restraining the growth of the global, regional and country-level markets from 2020-2030

About Us:RC Market Analytics is a global market research firm. Our insightful analysis is focused on developed and emerging markets. We identify trends and forecast markets with a view to aid businesses identify market opportunities to optimize strategies. Our expert’s team of analysts’ provides enterprises with strategic insights. RC Market Analytics works to help enterprises grow through strategic insights and actionable solutions. Feel free to contact us for any report customization at sales@researchcorridor.com.
Media Contact:
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