The Ordinary Times

The Friendly Skies

Some comedian once said that they thought it would be a good idea to go back to how things were in the 60s, where you could arrive at the airport smoking a cigarette, pay with cash, and extinguish that same cig somewhere over the desert. Sort of a fly-at-your-own-risk thing.

“I fucked up” has been a unfortunate catch-phrase of mine for a couple of years now, though it has been showing up less often. It’s back in a big way. Somehow I put the wrong name on my plane ticket to Mexico City, and I can’t change it.

James Sehorn. Do you know who that is? It’s my grandfather’ s uncle. It’s my cousin’s newborn son. It might be me if you looked at the situation just right. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot of creativity in the process of international flight.

It is absolutely beyond me how – and even more frustrating, why – this happened. The only thing I can think of is that I must have put both of my middle names in the middle-name field on the website, and the second of the two, Sehorn, booted out my surname.

What a pain in the ass this is. The Transportation Security Agency, those dicks who make you take off your shoes (and your belt if you’re a longhair), have a new regulation wherein your boarding pass must match your ID. My passport doesn’t say “Sehorn” on it anywhere. My birth certificate does. My social security card does. Of course I can’t find those documents, now that it’s three weeks before takeoff.

I fucked up.

After three phone calls to the airline, what I know is this: I cannot change the name on the ticket because there are more than one carrier (airline) on the itinerary. I cannot change the name at each individual airline because the ticket does not belong to them anymore. Additionally, if I was to change the name on the ticket it would immediately cancel the tickets with the other airlines and I would have to re-purchase the ticket, which, in case you were wondering, is non-refundable because I bought it online. The airline would waive the name-change fee ($150) if I was willing to pay the difference in airfare toward a new ticket, but that would be $500, roughly the price of the original ticket.

I think my best bet is to get a new Oregon state ID with all four of my names on it. I called TSA and all that Kendra could tell me was to bring all of the paperwork that I thought would help, and good luck.

I don’t want to depend on luck. Not being lucky in Mexico has some negative connotations. Not letting me into the country (or out of it, for chrissakes) would be a huge problem. I’m to meet up in Mexico City with my pal Sean, who lives in Guatemala. If I never show, he won’t be completely screwed. He’s a seasoned traveler who can fend for himself. It would be a huge bummer, though. Hell, what if I can’t even get ON the plane in Portland, and I have to eat the 500-dollar ticket?

Man, I fucked up.