God gave overbooking to help people like me, who always run around, to meditate, look around at people and eventually get down to writing some unimpressive thoughts about overbooking. Now, how come I was one of the 3 passangers on the Lufthansas flight from Munich to Bucharest who exchanged the pleasure of getting to Bucharest at 4pm with the chance to see the airport in Belgrade, the airport in Otopeni Bucharest at 8pm, sleep over in the capital, and finally catch an early train to Galati, my home town the second day? Well, for starters, I can speak and understand English decently which was a point in my favour, for me, the South African and American dudes who volunteered for the exchange in tickets.
Duly note tha I also volunteered to interpret the message the flight attendants gave in English and German, into Romanian to the 100 and so middle aged men and women looking rather lost at the announcements that were being made for the flight overbooking, delay and what more. However, they did no allow me to use the mic. I always dreamed of broadcasting my voice in an airport ever since that time I went to the wrong Venice airport (in hindsight, I should have bothered to check whether it was Venice Marco Polo or Treviso, but I got a rush of panic and a car race to the correct airport instead, not a complete waste...). I always snorted at the silly people called over the airport mic for last minute boarding, but hearing an Italian voce uttering Miz Neeegruuu just gave my ego a boost and my legs a jolt on that going-to-the-wrong-airport-occasion.
