But I only want to go there as a guest
Jan. 28th, 2007 01:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cyranoSo the plan was: grab a red-eye on Thursday night either to O'Hare or Dulles and then the first flight to Tampa in the morning and thus be in Bradenton by early afternoon.
Firstly, for those of you just joining us, I fly on a 'space available' basis. That means I get on, at a reduced fare, if nobody else wants to go. Which drives me crazy because it makes it difficult to plan ahead. And I like planning ahead. It's difficult to say "Go ahead and iron my shirt because I think maybe I'll be there in time for the opening at the museum. Or not."
For some reason, in the middle of January on a Thursday night, everybody wanted to go somewhere. Both red-eyes were packed, and so at about midnight I headed back to the CIC and tried to plot my next step. Friday morning through Denver, while crowded, seemed the least crowded option. So that meant that I could either drive home, nap for a couple of hours, then drive back or I could wander the airport like a lost soul trying to stay awake so nobody stole my bag or I could go out to nap in the car with my untested cel phone alarm.
I'd forgotten that it was actually (comparatively) cold out, and that sleeping in your car when it's cold is generally only advizable if you're a group of four college students in a horror movie having sex. But luckily I didn't get hypothermia, and I managed to unstiffen enough to get back to the terminal. I'd dozed on and off, because every time a bus pulled into the parking garage or an aeroplane departed I woke up, so I was glad I'd cleared details before morning.
I stared blankly at nothing while I gnawed on the turkey sandwich I'd bought the night before, and managed to get myself on that first flight out. I dozed some more, as much as one can in coach on a full flight, and arrived without event in Denver. The new terminal is very nice, apart from the fact that every bank of pay telephones had a single phone in it and that single phone was out of order. Which will become a plot point later. The huge banks of piled snow, the airy open ceilings, the large windows and the plains stretching out to the white peaked mountains all pointed to DIA's new 'we are full of nature' angle. As did the sparrow who was loose on Concourse B, flitting back and forth and pooping on people's luggage.
So the first flight from Denver was full--so much that they took volunteers and put them on the next flight. And I was concerned, so I tried to make some phone calls. I didn't want to use the cel phone because I was conserving battery power and had no charger, and this was when I discovered that every pay phone on the concourse was nonfunctional. I finally ended up borrowing somebody's cel phone to talk to the irritating automated phone tree at United, and considered flying into Orlando and driving the 150 or so miles in rush hour traffic. Opted against that, deciding that I'd rather get in after the last shuttle* and pony up for an expensive taxi ride across the bay.
So I settled in and prepared to get bumped again, beginning to make plans for staying overnight in Denver. Because the flight was overbooked and there were twelve people on the standby list. And this is why I say "Never say never". And not just when I'm singing along with Romeo Void. Because I got the last seat on the flight, right next to an attractive and loquacious young lady who hated flying.
EDIT: Oh yeah. The inflight movie that I dozed through, Kevin Costner's latest earnest-a-thon, The Guardian, is probably about as good as the promos I saw made it look.
And so I did in fact catch the very last shuttle out of Tampa and I got to see Rose and she had both Donne and Taylor in the bathroom--I think she was trying to get me to camp out there for several hours until she had the house cleaned to her satisfaction--and kitties in the kitty fort waiting to be petted. She had lovely new clothes to show me, as well (we hope to have photographic evidence in the near future), and Caprica, the shiny sleek new laptop.
Yesterday was Gasparilla (pronounced, as I eventually learned, like 'gorilla' and not 'guerilla'), celebrating the reign of the cunning pirate Gaspar who is a local cultural figure. I was feeling tired and peopled out, so we opted not to join the throng of nearly half a million and instead watched the parade on television. Then we watched 'Pirate Planet' to continue the pirate theme and then 'Runaway Bride' to continue the Doctor Who theme.
Today is a trip to DeSoto, with Rose looking particularly fetching, for some time with the ocean and perhaps picnic and photos. We'd like to catch a couple of films at the cinema while I'm here, maybe that will happen Monday. The weather is delightful, for me at least; we had rain last night and are looking at a possible freeze inland tomorrow.
On Tuesday, with luck, I'll get home and can go shopping and prepare to go back to work.
Firstly, for those of you just joining us, I fly on a 'space available' basis. That means I get on, at a reduced fare, if nobody else wants to go. Which drives me crazy because it makes it difficult to plan ahead. And I like planning ahead. It's difficult to say "Go ahead and iron my shirt because I think maybe I'll be there in time for the opening at the museum. Or not."
For some reason, in the middle of January on a Thursday night, everybody wanted to go somewhere. Both red-eyes were packed, and so at about midnight I headed back to the CIC and tried to plot my next step. Friday morning through Denver, while crowded, seemed the least crowded option. So that meant that I could either drive home, nap for a couple of hours, then drive back or I could wander the airport like a lost soul trying to stay awake so nobody stole my bag or I could go out to nap in the car with my untested cel phone alarm.
I'd forgotten that it was actually (comparatively) cold out, and that sleeping in your car when it's cold is generally only advizable if you're a group of four college students in a horror movie having sex. But luckily I didn't get hypothermia, and I managed to unstiffen enough to get back to the terminal. I'd dozed on and off, because every time a bus pulled into the parking garage or an aeroplane departed I woke up, so I was glad I'd cleared details before morning.
I stared blankly at nothing while I gnawed on the turkey sandwich I'd bought the night before, and managed to get myself on that first flight out. I dozed some more, as much as one can in coach on a full flight, and arrived without event in Denver. The new terminal is very nice, apart from the fact that every bank of pay telephones had a single phone in it and that single phone was out of order. Which will become a plot point later. The huge banks of piled snow, the airy open ceilings, the large windows and the plains stretching out to the white peaked mountains all pointed to DIA's new 'we are full of nature' angle. As did the sparrow who was loose on Concourse B, flitting back and forth and pooping on people's luggage.
So the first flight from Denver was full--so much that they took volunteers and put them on the next flight. And I was concerned, so I tried to make some phone calls. I didn't want to use the cel phone because I was conserving battery power and had no charger, and this was when I discovered that every pay phone on the concourse was nonfunctional. I finally ended up borrowing somebody's cel phone to talk to the irritating automated phone tree at United, and considered flying into Orlando and driving the 150 or so miles in rush hour traffic. Opted against that, deciding that I'd rather get in after the last shuttle* and pony up for an expensive taxi ride across the bay.
So I settled in and prepared to get bumped again, beginning to make plans for staying overnight in Denver. Because the flight was overbooked and there were twelve people on the standby list. And this is why I say "Never say never". And not just when I'm singing along with Romeo Void. Because I got the last seat on the flight, right next to an attractive and loquacious young lady who hated flying.
EDIT: Oh yeah. The inflight movie that I dozed through, Kevin Costner's latest earnest-a-thon, The Guardian, is probably about as good as the promos I saw made it look.
And so I did in fact catch the very last shuttle out of Tampa and I got to see Rose and she had both Donne and Taylor in the bathroom--I think she was trying to get me to camp out there for several hours until she had the house cleaned to her satisfaction--and kitties in the kitty fort waiting to be petted. She had lovely new clothes to show me, as well (we hope to have photographic evidence in the near future), and Caprica, the shiny sleek new laptop.
Yesterday was Gasparilla (pronounced, as I eventually learned, like 'gorilla' and not 'guerilla'), celebrating the reign of the cunning pirate Gaspar who is a local cultural figure. I was feeling tired and peopled out, so we opted not to join the throng of nearly half a million and instead watched the parade on television. Then we watched 'Pirate Planet' to continue the pirate theme and then 'Runaway Bride' to continue the Doctor Who theme.
Today is a trip to DeSoto, with Rose looking particularly fetching, for some time with the ocean and perhaps picnic and photos. We'd like to catch a couple of films at the cinema while I'm here, maybe that will happen Monday. The weather is delightful, for me at least; we had rain last night and are looking at a possible freeze inland tomorrow.
On Tuesday, with luck, I'll get home and can go shopping and prepare to go back to work.
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Date: 2007-01-29 12:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-29 02:49 am (UTC)