By ALLISON LORD – Caribbean

It all started when I recently decided to take my elderly mother to the Caribbean islands for a well-deserved vacation.

HOWEVER, before reveling in the luxury of rest and relaxation, I had to prepare myself to deal with the endless shenanigans of today’s travel experience. I cringed at the thought.

First: call my preferred airline of more than twenty years — American Airlines.

My accented voice is greeted by an even heavier accent from a man named Habib.

For a moment I thought my call had been re-routed and I was talking to Microsoft, India.

Habib’s customer service skills are horrible. Despite my many attempts to be polite, this rude English-challenged young man is determined to ruin my day at all costs. I am now reconsidering my decision to make these travel arrangements if basking in the tropical sun, eating mangos and drinking coconut water means having to deal with the bad attitude of this idiot.

I opt for the Internet!

With my Citibank Advantage Card in hand, I peruse the American Airlines website and other websites searching for the deal of a lifetime. After two hours of precious time wasted, not to mention missing the latest episode of Dancing With The Stars, I close my browser, thinking Habib may be the way to go.

But this Habib fella doesn’t come cheap. Booking with a human being instead of a computer will cost me about as much as a five course meal at France’s Trois Gros with a couple of bottles of 1978 Burgundy red wine.

Why is it I’m starting to feel that my million-mile, lifetime gold membership means absolutely nothing?

My frustration puts me back on the world-wide web and American Airlines. I believe I have found the ultimate deal – a $450 roundtrip ticket to paradise. A steal, right? Wrong!

The only person doing any stealing around here is my estranged Uncle, Sam, who only seems to come around when I least expect him or want to see him. Thanks to him my bargain has become almost double the price. Hey Habib, want to join us in Barbados? A little vacation might help put your pessimistic mind at ease.

What’s with those taxes? Whose genius idea was it to put together this sham? Who are these suits at American Airlines, sitting in their air conditioned offices and penthouse suites? I can see it now.

“Gentlemen, our board room discussion this morning is to see how we may utilize the old bait and switch routine to maximize our profits and keep our unsuspecting middle class customers still flying with us.”

What shall they give to us, their dear customers – maybe an assortment of fine wine and five-star cuisine? No! Not possible! Damn them! Coach passengers are not worthy of such elaborate commodities. A soda and maybe peanuts will do. Fine cuisine shall remain the exclusive right of the privileged ones who inhabit the first ten rows of the elitist 747.

I have just about had enough of this! In the name of airline passengers around the world, I take a stand. I do something that any passionate, law abiding American citizen who cares for this great nation would do…

I buy the tickets!

A roundtrip ticket to a smog free oasis doesn’t come cheap these days. Hey, don’t hate the player; hate the game.

Before even stepping foot on the glorious white sand beaches of the all-inclusive resort awaiting me in paradise, I have already watched the contents of my savings account begin to evaporate. Oh darn — gas money to get to the airport; airport parking; those vultures that slyly whisk your bags away, expecting a financial reward for their good deed.

Just as I anticipate, we arrive at the airport to be greeted by a knight in shining armor, Jerome (whom I believe is referred to as a skycap), who skillfully loads our baggage for the trek to the check-in counter. Another dear Lord, Tony, swiftly wheels my elderly mother in a wheelchair. What would we do without these ingenious souls? The wizard sure did well this time sending me these mere mortals who come from the fantastical world of TIP. Oh TIP, what a splendid place! A hidden mountainous city located somewhere behind the five and the ten that resides in my pocketbook, where these pleasant “knights” with beaming smiles are rewarded for their generous “hospitality.”

After my brief encounter with the hungry kind, I am brought before an interesting damsel named Tiffany.

Deplorable attitude? Check. Annoying presumptuous hairstyle with bangs that cover a preposterously large dome for a forehead? Check. Her need for prestige, notoriety, with a false sense of pride and accomplishment annoys me. Oh, it’s Nancy Grace! But what on earth is this antagonizing disgruntled little shrew doing working behind an American Airlines counter?

Tiffany takes one look at my luggage and I can see the fangs right next to her humongous incisors begin to perk.

Hah! I spit on you and your overweight baggage, Tiffany’s expression says.

Well, well, Miss Tiffany, it seems that you may carry some baggage of your own. By the way, I am a permanent gold member, just so you know.

Tiffany laughs in the face of my gold membership card.

“No more luggage for free, not anymore!” she yells. “You are allowed two pieces up to 50lbs. each,” (And because the airlines have cut the weight of the suitcases by about half and the empty suitcases themselves weigh a lot) “even half a pound extra you must pay for, gold member or not!”

Why had Habib not even mentioned this to me on the phone?

Who knows? Maybe he did. Behind his thick full accent and his creative approach to the English language, I may have missed it.

Our conversation was about as clear to me as a discussion on nuclear arms between Little Wayne and Mahmoud Ahmadinnerjacket.

The moment of truth set upon me.  I am only allowed two pieces and I have three.

I’ve been such a fool to believe that my suitcases would forever fly the friendly skies with me for free.

I watch the malicious gleam in Tiffany’s eyes as I reach into my purse to give this jikka what she so desires – $100 in gold nuggets. With her inflated ego well fed, she leaves me alone, on to her next victim.

After leaving Tiffany’s kingdom, we are one step closer to the big bird that’s going to fly us off to passionate bliss.

Enter TSA, which really stands for THIS SH** AGAIN!!

They dig through my mother’s medicine bag, checking the bottles as if the total destruction of mankind lies in them.

“This is heart medication.” “What’s in it?” “How the hell am I supposed to know?” I am not the FDA, but I do believe it meets your limit of three ounces for liquid content.”

My elderly mother gets frisked more than an intern during President Clinton’s administration. The old lady gets more action during her screening than she has gotten in almost fifty years. Watch the wand, buddy. This is my mother’s innocence you are playing with.

That lanky man with the funny name began all of this. Osama Bin Laden! How did I get lumped in with this egotistical clown who relies on launching bombs and missiles into buildings to make up for his inferiority complex about his own shortcomings?

The bearded man and the United States fell out years ago. It was an argument over camels.

“Look President Bush. YOUR Camels are part of a billion dollar industry that leads to the demise of millions of American every year. They contain cancer causing toxins that leave Americans susceptible to illness and death.”

“You’re wrong Osama. It’s YOUR camels that transport terrorists who cause death to Americans!”

And so the rift began…

So you say Osama caused this inconvenience to all the travelers who fly your airlines. I say, Osama is responsible for the initial start of this fiasco but remember, you are the ones who let those killers on your flights in the first place!

Alas, we are all cleared to takeoff… to the gate. We continue to the next phase of the perils of travel. My mother is left basking in the afterglow of her TSA experience. I am left dehydrated.

Before I get to the gate, I stop to buy a $3 bottle of water and a $15 hamburger for my mom to eat on the plane. As we wait at the gate, I look around and my eyes see other unhappy participants who have also been molested by the invasive hands of the TSA. They too cannot wait to leave the experience behind them, until, of course…the trip back.

We board. We sit in our cramped designated seats.

May I have a blanket and a pillow ma’am? I’m handed a package, including a headset for $5, thank you very much.  I get a ‘Mini Me’ bath towel that is too small to cover any part of the body to be comfortable or to endure the cold airplane. I try to pull the tiny piece of fabric over me and get comfortable.

The food cart bypasses me on its way to the first class cabin. Okay, if you must transport the food the entire length of the plane, past all the people for whom it is not intended, why not just store the goodies in First Class, for heaven’s sake! I’m starving at this point. I have two choices, stay hungry or take a bite out of my mother’s burger. I opt for the latter.

I am also thirsty. With my money out, I am ready to pay. The flight attendant says, ‘it’s free.’ Ah! Finally, something free after all the money I have spent so far. She opens the can and pours a miniscule amount of a beverage into a full glass of ice. Oh well, its better than nothing, it’s free.

I wonder if breast feeding mothers can bring bottled breast milk on board the plane or do they have to pump in-flight? Would they be accused of ‘indecent exposure?’ Hmm. Well, maybe if they remained seated. We wouldn’t want to cause a disturbance with the air marshals now, would we.

I reach for my carry-on to retrieve one of the several items I usually carry to counter the boredom of flying and help me escape the reality of sitting thirty five thousand feet up in the air, with absolutely nothing to do.

Besides my laptop, solitaire playing cards, books and crossword puzzles, my bag also contains necessities, which most travelers pack in case of emergency.

But according to some airlines, there will now be a another “little” charge to passengers for carry-ons — a luxury few of us will be able to afford in the future.

Now, that the airlines have effectively taken all the fun out of travel:

BE SURE to check this list before you decide to fly:

• If you buy a ticket over the telephone, you pay extra
• For comfort (more legroom), you pay extra
• Extra taxes are tagged onto your ticket
• Baggage weight allowance has been cut in almost half
• All baggage has to be paid for and if overweight, you pay extra
• No shoes until you pass TSA
• No liquids, limited toiletries
• No standing or walking in the aisles, even though you have DVT
• No more complimentary meals
• No laughter, carousing or joking around with your friends
• No talking to or making jokes with the flight attendants, in fact don’t engage anyone on the plane in conversation for fear they call the Captain, who will in turn, turn the plane around and call the FBI, who in turn will call the police.

And no doubt, coming soon to an airline near you – no free use of the toilets. So have your quarters ready.

Happy travels!