It Really IS Abuse

Of course I was assigned airport alert for last night, beginning at 9 pm. Surprisingly enough, there were a fair amount of flight attendants downstairs and we had a mini airport alert party which was fun. Until everyone else's four hours were up. I talked to my f/a bff for a good 45 minutes; that was exciting. That brought me to about 10:30. I talked to one of the girls from my training class, but she left at 11. Finally, I pulled out my computer and this is the part when I bitch about how horrible the internet is in the crew room. It's slower than dial up in 1997. I popped in a movie - Mystery Men, which is totally one of my all time faves. At midnight, the two international reserves got released. Like scheduling actually called them and said you may go home. When I talked to them they said no. I called back five minutes later because Ponce, our last flight of the day, had taken off and I was very polite and asked them if it had or not. They said I had to wait to be released by the actual domestic scheduler, which is crap because I know I've talked to that guy before. Whatever. But then they made me sit there for another 1/2 hour after everyone else had gone home and I was left with all the sleeping, creepy commuters who refuse to get crash pads. They finally called at 12:33 and I was released. I caught the free cab home and was in the door by one, in bed by 1:10 and didn't wake up til 11 this am. Moreover, I am not on the list for today; at least I got a free day off for my troubles at abuse.