Day 9: Disaster Strikes

Day 9

So, this day was the day the wheels fell off.

Close. So close to a issue-free vacation. It started off ok – I actually got out of bed at 4 am, which in and of itself is a miracle.

That was the last thing to go right for a while.

The car was rented in David’s name.  So, to help save time, David dropped us off at the airport at 5 am and went to go drop off the car so we could make our 7:30 am flight. This was of utmost importance, because David had just enough time to get home from the airport, repack for a business trip, and then fly out to Denver that afternoon.

We did not see him again for over an hour.

Which was a problem, because as it turned out, when I went to go get our boarding passes, a very unhelpful lady told me she had no Dyers on the flight.

Or any flights.

All day.

I called David to let him know what was up, and I had just enough time to say “They don’t have any tickets for us” before his phone died.

Thus began over an hour of pacing back and forth in the terminal, making sure we didn’t miss him when he came back, because how would we get a hold of him?  Turned out that the car rental place we used was the only one who did not have an airport location.  He was having issues finding it because his cell was dead and he couldn’t look up directions.  So by the time he found the place, returned the car, and took the shuttle back to the airport, it was past 6 am and I was foaming at the mouth.

Not literally, people.

Anyway, David eventually made it back, and adopted the stride of Man About To Get Things Done and went over to the counter, which happened to be a inhabited by a somewhat deranged woman named Mary.

We had hooked up with Mary by pure chance.  While we were standing in the middle of the concourse, waiting for David’s return, she came up and asked us about our trip and what we were doing.  When we explained we somehow had no record of our tickets, and were waiting for my husband to return with our confirmation number, she went off to her counter and said, “Come on over to me! I’m the best.”  And honestly, if nothing else, she did try to help us, and was the only one willing to do so.

So David talked to Mary for a minute, and then borrowed Paul’s iPhone to look up our confirmation number.  David had the phone in his hands for maybe 20 seconds when she came bursting out around the counter and started snapping her fingers in his face saying, “I need that code!”  It was with equal parts fascination and dread that I tried to guess how David would respond to this, at 6:30 am and pretty stressed out.  He actually did pretty well, turning her and saying, calmly, “Technology is my limitation.”

This became, quite possibly, the best quote from the trip.

Which led to me making David this shirt once we got home

Sweet guy, he even wore it in public once.

Eventually we figured out that somehow, when we bought the tickets while on the phone with my sister, verifying times and flight numbers, seating, etc, we purchased our tickets for Saturday, not Sunday.

We had bought our tickets for the wrong day and missed our flight.

Thus began what I will term The Scramble.  I cannot even explain those last, frenzied 40 minutes. This lady was on something, or has forgotten to take something, because she was wired at 6 am and every exchange just made us feel like this was a Catastrophe that might not be able to be reverted. We would have to live in the airport terminal. Some highlights:

• Mary informing us that if we had just bought the tickets through the Alaskan Air site instead of Orbitz, there would only be a $200 change fee, instead of the $1200 the tickets were now going to cost us. IF they could find some seats for us.  
• During the insanity, at one point Mary paused to shout at some guy passing by that he and his wife needed to go out for drinks with her. He made some no-committal noise and scurried the heck out of there, with the look of a cornered rabbit.  
• Then, when we had finally resigned ourselves to selling a kidney apiece for our tickets, as there were 2 seats left on the flight and we were running out of time,  Mary got excited and HUNG UP ON THE PERSON WHO COULD BOOK US THE SEATS. Really.  Her verbatim quote:
•  "I got too excited and hung up on ‘em!  Now we’re gonna have to start all over and you’re not going to make it.”
• Finally booking our tickets, sadly handing over our credit card, and her taking all our money with a “We’ll see if we can get you on the plane!” 
•  The last, desperate, checking and flinging of our bags onto the conveyor belt, watching them glide into a tunnel and possibly, I mused, out of my life forever. 
• The atrocity at the security check deserves a paragraph of its own.

We felt the need to record this. I think my expression captures the moment nicely.  That's Mary in the background, probably about to hang up on our tickets any second.

So as Mary printed off our tickets, she started pushing me towards the security line, shouting, “Go! Run! Get in the shortest line!!”  There was no shortest line. I have seen shorter lines at Disney World.  The plane is taking off in 20 minutes, and there is no way we are going to make it.

Then Mary caught up with us.

She grabbed me, dragged us to the first TSA guy she saw, and started shrieking about how we needed to get through RIGHT NOW and where can we go? We were then shoved to another guy, who took our info and started processing our tickets.  He was taking his time.  I don’t think this guy could be rushed for anything, including volcanic eruptions.  This infuriated Mary, who had obviously forgotten to take her Ritalin that morning.  She then spied the next line, which was to get through the scanners.  At that point she screeched to the 2^nd TSA guy, “Are they going to have to go through that?!”

 “Yup.”

And so, naturally, she spun around to the first TSA guy and pointing, screamed, “YOU LIED TO ME!!”  And she started going off on some rant, which the TSA guy interrupts with an authoritative “MA’AM.” and beckoned her over. She scurried off in her righteous anger for us and they conferred.  At this point we are trying as much as possible to distance ourselves from this woman. I am imaging strip searches, probes.  This is worse than the last time we were in an airport together on a return flight, and David got called away by the security staff and we didn’t see him for 30 minutes.  Turns out they thought he was a terrorist – I had brought along some fondant for cake we had made. Fondant is a white, Play-Do like substance that is unmarked, brick-like in shape, and comes wrapped in shiny silver paper.  Kind of looks like plastic explosives. Ooops.

Anyway, she came back in a minute, hugs David, then hugs me and whispers in my ear, “I hate those TSA bitches”, and then, mercifully, we were on our own.

We made it through security and had about 10 minutes to make our flight.  After an hour with high-strung, the-world-is-ending Mary, David started running for the gate.  I halfheartedly followed, then gave up and walked.  I had been thoroughly demoralized by our reduction in funds, and saw my chance for ever having a patio leaving me.

But we made the plane.

Court and Paul were pretty excited to see us on it – we were not sure how D and I were going to get home, since C and P’s car was at the airport, and they had to head home. So that was good.  But, getting the last two seats on the plane, our seats were not together.  David found his row and sat down, and I kept going…and going…and there, in the second to last row, I found my seat.

My middle seat.

In between two very large men.  

 I wedged myself into my seat, arms humorously squished together in front of my body.  I hung my head, dejected, and had a little 5 minute pity party.

I eventually rallied and talked with the nice men on either side of me.  One was a Mormon boy of 16, a few weeks from leaving on his mission, and the other was a middle-aged guy who had just gotten back from a hunting trip, in which he lived on top of a mountain for 2 weeks.  Seriously.  So at least we had things to talk about.

We did eventually get to DFW, and after disembarking, filled Courtney and Paul in on all the insanity that they missed out on bc we wanted them to board in a timely manner.  It was at this point that Court took this picture.

Whyyy.......

Miracle of miracles, our BAGGAGE HAD MADE IT TO DALLAS.  Not that I'm complaining, but how did that happen?  I mean, if there was one time I would understand our luggage didn't make it, this was it.  I don't understand that process at all. But, so happy.  Gotta find those sliver linings where ya can.

Back at home. We made it and the dogs didn't destroy the house while we were gone. Thanks Mom!

We needed to take a breather and get some food. David had to pack and leave again, pretty much right away.  Poor guy.

Garden, tapering off for the fall - me, pointing out where various plants died.

Paul loves Torchy's

I mean, REALLY LOVES Torchy's

The end.  We all made it home in one piece, safe and sound, so I cant be upset about that.  You can bet that next time we book tickets, we will be triple-checking that business.