Confessions of a Reformed Marching Band Geek

Crazy Vacation Post: Good Grief. What the….

on December 31, 2012

OK. So after the airline debacle was cleared up Mr Grumpy and I were finally able to get a little sleep. I got up early (because I realized I didn’t pack a belt and I was worried I’d forget) and decided to check a few other things, including our new flight for the day. Awesome. I don’t have a confirmation number to check in and print our boarding passes. Call number 1 for the day to the emergency center (or three if you include last night).

The morning agent took a little while, but she found it and stayed on the line while I checked it out. Perfect. There they were. Thanks!

I grabbed them off the printer with a feeling of accomplishment so early in the morning. Then I looked at them again. My ticket was in my nickname NOT my formal, on my driver’s license and every other form of ID I have name. Call number 2 to the emergency center.

Back to on hold with lousy music. Sigh. She comes back and asks if I have anything with my nickname on it. I offer my business cards, but she tells me that’s not enough. Seriously? Back on hold. She comes back and tells me that she has note posted with my information at the airline and they’ll issue me a new ticket when we get there. Hooray! This vacation might be OK after all. Maybe.

We reserved a cab the night before (and made sure our rental car will still be there when we get in 4-5 hours late and that we can get into the condo when ever we might actually make it there). I told Mr Grumpy that the cab would be there 15-30 minutes early so we should request a time later than we want. He, of course, told me I was crazy and to book it nice and early. Yep. He got there almost 40 minutes early and called to ask why we weren’t ready. Nice.

Fifteen minutes before we planned on leaving we zipped out to the taxi to a grumbly driver. He may have just been talking to us, but his accent was REALLY thick and I was really struggling to make out what he had to say. He asked us for our airline about 3 times on the way. I figured he was just not paying attention. We pulled up to the departure area of the airport and he asked again. Then he asked if we knew which terminal that would be. Um…no. He asked us to read the signs as we drove by and let him know when we got close. As we missed the sign he tried to convince us that we were at the wrong airport (not a chance dude. I quadruple checked. We are NOT going to have more trouble traveling today). We looped again as he tried to turn the situation into a teachable moment for US about the GIANT SIGN on the way into the airport telling us where to go. Yeah. We really don’t have great travel mojo.

We finally found our ticket counter. No new ticket for me. If I wanted one with the correct name I’d have to give up my seat and hope that I can get another. No dice. I’d take my chances with TSA. Luckily, my driver’s license picture is close enough to my current hair color. They let me in. I’m thinking in my next license photo I should just go for the crazed look. It’s what officials would see if they looked at it anyway. Or maybe I should stick with calm and awesome looking. Then they would know that I don’t always look like that…I think.

After a minor breakfast mishap (they brought Mr Grumpy the wrong breakfast. A new one was procured, but they delivered it to the wrong table), we found our gate. It seems that they were having the same kind of week because they posted two departure times.

You can't really see it, but the screen on the right says that our flight leaves at 10:45. On the left, 11:00.

You can’t really see it, but the screen on the right says that our flight leaves at 10:45. On the left, 11:00.

The photo is not amazing (OK it’s horrible), but if you blow it up and squint you’ll see that they posted that we’d be leaving at 10:45 or 11:00. I would have taken a better picture, but with the way our trip was going I was sure security would see me as some kind of threat. Either way, we left late. Luckily the family in front of us brought their Elf on the Shelf (which I REALLY wanted to take a picture of but Mr Grumpy was worried about the family thinking we were stalking them or doing something sneaky. With our mojo for the day I decided to show restraint) so we had someone to blame for any future travel mischief!


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