International Flight Covid Test Confusion
What a freakin’ mess!
After carefully studying the airline's website for instruction on the COVID-19 testing program before flights from SFO. The instructions tell you to be tested 3 days ahead of your flight is preferred; it does not say 72 hours ahead. Wanting to do the right thing, I head off to the San Francisco International Airport on the Sunday morning, which the site assures me is okay for my Wednesday flight. I stand in line for 30 minutes. I get to the registration desk, on aisle six, hand over my passport, and tell the agent my destination, flight time, and what I had for breakfast.
“Thank you, sir. Please join the line for testing.”
The line looks a hundred strong. Waiting time is approx 90 mins. Oh well, at least it's over with.
What is it about human nature that standing in line is so irritating? Is it the farts? Or the fact one minute feels like five? There’s a deep psychotic stress to standing in line, like waiting to ride a roller coaster, or be recognized by an old woman knocked over for their purse. Almost 90 mins later, I approach the testing clerk. Hand over all my documents again, including travel docs and passport.
“I’m sorry, sir. You’ll have to come back tomorrow. Your test, if you have it done today, will have passed the 72-hour timeline.”
Fuck, why me? The pain is excruciating, like standing in line at Safeway, then waiting for the slowest bagger in the fucking universe!
“Wait a damn minute, your website says nothing about 72 hours. It clearly states I can get the test done on the previous Sunday for my Wednesday flight. Here is the wording,” I said, showing her the instructions on my iPhone. “Do you see anything about the test expiring after 72-hours?”
Just so you know, people, we spend something like 37 billion hours a year waiting in lines.
“Sir, I cannot help what the site says. Your flight leaves at 4:00 pm., on Wednesday. It is now 8:00 am., on Sunday. That would be 80 hours and the test is only certified for 72 hours. You would show up for your flight and you would have to take the test again at another cost.”
I don’t know if other men are the same, but standing in line provokes a stream of mental indecencies. In order to shake these mindless but intriguing thoughts away, I imagine sandy deserts, the cool shade of a sparkling oasis, almond eyes peering from behind flimsy curtains, full of Middle Eastern promise.
“So, I could wait here until 4:00 pm., this afternoon and be tested?”
“No, sir.”
“Why?”
“You require a PCR test for London. The last time to be tested here at the airport is 3:30 pm., on a Sunday.”
“Let me get this right. I stand in line for 90 minutes, having registered when I first got here, and the woman who registered me couldn’t tell me that I would have a problem? I gave her the same information I gave you.”
“It’s not her job, sir.”
Damn right, from what I saw, her job was checking finger nails every two minutes, and combing her three inch long eyelashes.
“Don’t you think it would be a good idea to have someone, say a hundred people back, who could tell me it isn’t worth standing in line for 90 minutes to get a test, as it will run out before I board the plane?” I asked, not waiting for the predictable answer. “So, tell me, if I were able to get it done at 4 pm., today, what happens if the flight is 8 hours delayed on Wednesday, and I cannot board the plane until midnight. My test will be eight hours over the 72 hour limit? Will I be refused boarding?”
This is what happens when I’ve been standing in line. I become philosophical.
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Okay, so if I was able to get the test today, after 4:00 PM., and the airline allows me to board, who is to say in the 72 hours I hadn’t been infected?”
“It would be caught in London, sir. You must be tested again, in London.”
I’ve never really considered the game of stone throwing, but in my lugubrious mood, I’m willing to fire off a volley of moderately lethal rocks.
“Not for free, I’m sure.”
“No, sir.”
“The test here in San Francisco will cost $250 per each person, correct? And there’s no guarantee I don’t have Covid when I board the plane?”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“And then I’ll be tested again in London?”
“Yes, sir. When you arrive, you must test within 72 hrs. And then tested again 72 hours before you leave the UK.”
“So, there’s every possibility I will spend $850 on testing after currency conversion.”
“I don’t know, sir. I’ve never been to London.”
Just as well, I’m thinking. The only job you’d get in London is wearing a boiler suit and wellies.
“What do you suggest I do?”
I can see in her eyes she is an inch from suggesting I bury myself in chicken shit.
“I can make an appointment for you tomorrow. I have 11:00 am., available. Would that work for you?”
“And if I should test positive tomorrow, what would that mean?”
“You will not be allowed to fly, sir.”
“I see. But anyone who is tested tomorrow, and catches Covid on Tuesday, will be allowed to fly?”
“Yes, sir. However, that person will have to quarantine when tested in London.”
“And you believe that person will really quarantine? Just asking.”
“The UK government will track the cell phone on record, sir. You are required to tell the government the address at which you will stay. They will watch your cell phone for movement outside that address.”
Fuck. We are being tracked by our cell phones! I’ll be caught by the Potter’s Bar Constabulary for a bank job I pulled in Petaluma. I could see the Clerk is trying to squeeze out her last ounce of energy to deal with me.
“And if I leave my cell phone at the address, and nip out for a cold one at the local bar, how will the UK government know?”
“They won’t, sir. They’ll be fucked!”
“Exactly. By the way, I noticed when standing in line for over an hour, when you smile, you have something between your teeth. Looks like a blueberry skin. You have a good day.”
I’m not driving four hours all the way back to fucking Mendocino. I’m backed up, constipated I stood so long. Anyway, that’s it. I’m writing this on the toilet and don’t have time to check the grammar. What do you expect? It’s not fucking Hamlet!
