MIA - How Appropriate

Today's first feature is another rant on how much I hate Miami and the lackadaisical attitude that is so prevalent there. Last week we arrived at the Miami International Aiport for our 6:35 a.m. flight to Tulsa (via Houston) at 4:30 a.m. We had carefully removed anything remotely liquid or gel-like from our luggage, chosen shoes without gel insoles, and arrived the minimum of 2 hours in advance recommended for making it thorough security. We were ready to have as smooth a trip as possible. We forgot to take into account the fact that we were still in Miami. We arrived at the Continental check-in counter and found it unoccupied. Even the self-registration monitors were blinking at us, declaring that they would not be available for use until 4:45 a.m. In Miami, apparently, even the computers can't be bothered. There were no signs directing us where to wait or what to do, so we did what seemed reasonable at the time. We decided to stand in line at the counter and wait the 15 minutes until we could check in. Other passengers who had been sitting down in the area joined the line behind us. When a Continental employee finally arrived at around 4:50, she snapped at us for where we were standing and directed us to another spot. We all moved, and she spent the next 10 minutes or so constructing the queue. As she put the first posts in place, she snapped at us again because we were standing approximately 2 inches too far forward of where she wished to begin the line. We apologized and moved back a little and she proceeded on in a huff. We had to move back again to facilitate the spreading of the official Continental Airlines floormat a few moments later. At around 10 after 5:00, the counter finally opened, at which time the agents instructed us to use the self-check monitors. We inquired what we should do with our checked bags and were told, in that tone of voice one uses to address the stupid, that we would get in line again and someone would call us when they were ready to take our bags. We complied, and when our turn came to give our bags to the agent, we were told rather brusquely, "Your name is not on these bags. You will have to fill out luggage tags." When I pointed out the luggage tag slots manufactured into each piece, I was told "Oh no. We do not go into pockets. It's required to be on the outside now." I saw this nowhere on the TSA website I'd perused the night before, so unless it is an airline thing, I'm skeptical. I was to step aside and fill out 3 tags. When I tried to attach said tags to the luggage, the agent took them from my hand and said "You can go now." Fine.

Soon after, we found ourselves at the security checkpoint. Again, there were no signs telling us what to do, so we did the logical thing and went into the nylon strap maze heading for the screeners. We were stopped with much waving of hands and brandishing of papers and told we had to wait outside the queue. Once we formed a line outside the queue and the screeners had concluded their conversation, we were allowed back in. We put our stuff on the conveyor and I stepped through the magnetometer. The TSA agent on the other side asked me in a voice so soft that I had to ask her to repeat herself, "Where are your bags?" When I replied that they were on the conveyor, she told me "You have to go back and push them into the machine". What is the conveyor for?!?! At any other airport, they would yell at you for pushing your stuff into the machine because there is a person who does that once the machine operator is ready. Not in Miami, apparently. In Miami you have to be psychic just to make it through the airport without getting snapped at.

Okay, well, I think I've ranted about that for long enough. The rest of our trip was great. The Houston and Tulsa airports were much better - much friendlier. In fact, every other airport in the world that I have passed through has been head and shoulders above Miami. In conclusion, at MIA, customer service is MIA.