Going to Europe? No South America!
While sitting on an airplane and "buckled in," I heard my name over the loud speaker. I was asked to identify myself. The stewardess (that's what they were called back then), asked me to come to the front of the plane.
Another flight attendant (politically correct nowadays) handed me a phone with a cord attached to the wall. Hello, I said.
"Dave, is that you?" Yes, who's calling.
"Tom Abramcyzk at GETSCO. Glad I caught you."
Well, you're lucky, I said. I am departing for London and then off to the Middle East.
"Good. I need you to get off the plane and change your flight to Caracas, Venezuela and connect to Maracaibo." The line went silent.
"Are you still there, Dave?"
Yes, I replied. I'm not sure I can do that. Why?
"We've had a change of plans and they need you down on Lake Maracaibo."
The flight crew agreed to get my bags off the plane. I went to the Pan American counter and switched my flight to Maiquetia.
Imagine my mother's face when she got a postcard from Venezuela the next week instead of Saudi Arabia!
I guess the GETSCO aximom is true: YOo never know where you're going until you arrive there!