Trip
hour 13 of travel. In that time, I've gone from the mission, SF to the Las Vegas airport where I am waiting for my bag and being sporadically bombarded with lascivious, writhing, nude women on screens, and the loud, dischordant signature organ piece of Phantom of the Opera.
The first nine hours were some of the most stressful of my life- holiday airport hell, if you will.
But then, I was told that I could get onto a plane that would stop in Vegas and then that same plane would continue on to Ft. Lauderdale, FL where my brother would pick me up- only six hours late.
*That flight was so serene and lovely. Out my port-side window, the Sierra Nevadas suddenly loomed- amazing. Dusted lightly with snow. From 35,000 feet, they looked exactly like a relief map I made of the state in the 5th grade using clay. We flew directly over Bishop- where the Sierras suddenly die down into a quiet little town that's almost always sunny. I'd seen it from the ground. Now I saw it from the sky.
An interlude of sleep.
I awoke just as we were touching down. Feeling serene and rested, and more comfortable than I had expected from plane seats.
My first sight was of the wheels touching the tarmac. My second- a giant pyramid! With a huge white balloon floating over it. What magical place have I landed in? Was I asleep longer than I thought?
Oh yes, I'm in Vegas.
Where, it seems, they have changed the planes around, and mine has already left.
But here, I got the most excellent customer service of my trip.
While waiting in a long line, somehow, I was the only one to notice an employee beckoning from across the way. I walked over, handed him my boarding pass, and received such obesiance! I did not make out spectacularly well, but I came away satisfied. They're putting me up for the night, with meal vouchers. And I should arrive in Miami tomorrow early enough to enjoy a new city that I haven't explored (but not so early that my brother will complain about coming to get me). More importantly, because they fucked up, they let me change my return flight! The trip had been a day or two shorter than my preference, because of a combination of my schedule and the relative cheapness of flying home on Christmas Day. Now I get an extra day and a half. And the return flight is out of the airport in my brother's city, instead of and hour and a half away. Huzzah!
The first nine hours were some of the most stressful of my life- holiday airport hell, if you will.
But then, I was told that I could get onto a plane that would stop in Vegas and then that same plane would continue on to Ft. Lauderdale, FL where my brother would pick me up- only six hours late.
*That flight was so serene and lovely. Out my port-side window, the Sierra Nevadas suddenly loomed- amazing. Dusted lightly with snow. From 35,000 feet, they looked exactly like a relief map I made of the state in the 5th grade using clay. We flew directly over Bishop- where the Sierras suddenly die down into a quiet little town that's almost always sunny. I'd seen it from the ground. Now I saw it from the sky.
An interlude of sleep.
I awoke just as we were touching down. Feeling serene and rested, and more comfortable than I had expected from plane seats.
My first sight was of the wheels touching the tarmac. My second- a giant pyramid! With a huge white balloon floating over it. What magical place have I landed in? Was I asleep longer than I thought?
Oh yes, I'm in Vegas.
Where, it seems, they have changed the planes around, and mine has already left.
But here, I got the most excellent customer service of my trip.
While waiting in a long line, somehow, I was the only one to notice an employee beckoning from across the way. I walked over, handed him my boarding pass, and received such obesiance! I did not make out spectacularly well, but I came away satisfied. They're putting me up for the night, with meal vouchers. And I should arrive in Miami tomorrow early enough to enjoy a new city that I haven't explored (but not so early that my brother will complain about coming to get me). More importantly, because they fucked up, they let me change my return flight! The trip had been a day or two shorter than my preference, because of a combination of my schedule and the relative cheapness of flying home on Christmas Day. Now I get an extra day and a half. And the return flight is out of the airport in my brother's city, instead of and hour and a half away. Huzzah!