Thursday, April 7, 2011

Wedding Madness {Part 3}


We left the reception to, once again, crash my dad's room to change and head back to Atlanta for our flights that were leaving at about 7:00am. We got changed and repacked. Jill and I hit the road at about 12:30am. It was nice to get some uninterrupted chat time with my sister. Sometimes I really hate living so far from family! About three o'clock in the morning, I was getting kind of sleepy, so we pulled off at a Waffle House for some coffee and middle-of-the-night breakfast.

As I opened the door, I briefly wondered if it was a good idea.

It was fine.

We stopped for just enough gas to make sure we got back to the airport, since I had pre-paid for a full tank.  We made it safely back to the airport at about five o'clock in the morning.

I turned in the car and they overcharged me.  So I stopped by the counter to find out why.  Turns out when I walked out into the garage with my "Intermediate" Alamo Car folder, they pointed me to the row of "Full" sized cars.  I don't know who labels those things, maybe clowns, but a "full-size" car is not what you would expect a full-size car to be!  I was charged for gas in a full-sized car (since that's what I unknowingly took!) and it came out to over $13 difference on a one day rental.  The lady was nice and refunded the difference.

At this point, I was feeling pretty good about our insane trip.

I was also feeling exhausted and looking forward to getting to the gate, where I could snooze in a chair.  Sleep, glorious, sleep!  (Contrary to popular opinion... I DO love sleep.  I don't often get a lot of it, but I dearly cherish the sleep I do get.)  So, there I am snoozin' in the chair with my feet up...

when all of the sudden, Jill freaks out.

"They changed your gate!  "We've gotta go down to A33!"

So we leave my nearly deserted gate and head to the opposite end of Terminal A, where we see the flight boarding the plane.  And the Delta workers are calling my seat number over the loudspeaker because it was an exit row and they wanted those sitting in exit rows on the plane.  I happened to notice a list of standby passengers on the screen, so I went up to the counter to let them know that 10B was present and accounted for.  Don't give away my seat!  So, I find my spot in line.  When it's finally my turn, my boarding pass beeps under the machine and they won't let me through.

Why not?

Because "this flight is going to Cincinatti."  Oh, well, THAT makes a difference!  I told the gate agent that the sign on my gate said the gate had been moved.  She looked it up and sure enough, we were still leaving out of A13.

So, I took the long hike back.

When I arrived, it actually looked like a plane was leaving that gate.  People were boarding, gate agents available.  I take a look at the screen behind the desk.and.completely.flip.out.

You see, I left Houston Hobby airport on Saturday morning.

My flight was scheduled to arrive at Houston Bush Intercontinental Airport.

But my car was waiting for me at Hobby.


I asked the gate agent if they have flights to Hobby.  She says, "Yes, but you have to change flights at ticketing."

Ticketing is in a completely different terminal.  I'm in the final boarding group, which is now being called to board.  I decided that I'd at least be in my city and I could figure it out from there.  So, I got on the plane.

But not without frantically texting Jill and Jeremy to let them know of my predicament.  I had thought of one friend who could have possibly been available to pick my up on a Sunday morning and decided to text her about the same time they're telling us to power down our electronic devices.

That's when she showed up behind me in the aisle.

"You have to turn that off!", the friendly Delta flight attendant snapped.
and by friendly, I mean friendly to everyone around me, but me.  I really have no explanation why.

"Yes, I understand," I replied.  "I just need to send this text because I'm parked at Hobby and I don't have a ride from Bush.  I didn't realize this was going to happ..."


I feel this big.  But, I'm not about to miss my last opportunity to send my friend my flight info before we're airborne, so I frantically finish my text and paste in the flight info.  Meanwhile, her eyes are burning holes into my fingers.  If she had a ruler, I was certain that my fingers would have been smacked!  She waits until I'm obviously turning it off and moves a couple rows ahead.

Where she proceeds to have a lengthy conversation with another flight attendant, who happened to be on board.

You're kidding me!?  It was really so urgent that I turn off my phone that instant that you had to belittle me, only to go and have a nice heart-to-heart with her?  I don't get it.

So I cried.

Mostly because I was so overtired.  A little bit because I felt scolded.

The last thing I told Jeremy was I'd figure it out in Houston.  I knew he had to work and the vast majority of people I know would likely be heading to church, as well.  Nothing I could do now, so I decided to try to sleep.

When I landed, and was given authority to turn on my own phone, I had a couple of texts from Jeremy and a voicemail from Ron, our nanny's dad and friend of the family.  I had a ride!  My hubby is my hero.

So, Ron picks me up outside and we get on the road.  I ask, "Where are you taking me?  My house or my car?"  We're headed to get my car.  Mkay.  Cool.

For some reason (sleep deprivation, I'm sure!), I thought we got on the Beltway going the loooong way around Houston to get to the other airport.  I thought it was odd, but didn't say anything until I realized much later (at Gallery Furniture, for you Houstonian readers...) that we were taking the more direct route of 45 South.  It was then that I realized I was in a state of delirium.

Ron took me to my car and I proceeded to get on the actual Beltway and head home.

...and that's when I saw the lights in my rear view mirror.

I think that is the very definition of adding insult to injury.

I wasn't speeding or anything.  But truth be told, I deserved the ticket.  I had an expired registration.  I think you have a month of grace and I was two days outside of that.  My license was stashed in my suitcase in the trunk, so I had to get out of the car to get it.

And I stood on the side of the road and cried, while he ran whatever he had to run through the computer.

The officer came back and asked if I was okay.

"It's been a rough night."

I told him about being up all night and ending up at the wrong airport.
I told him I was so tired and just wanted to get home to sleep.
I told him I knew I was going to get a ticket and it wasn't his fault.  It was just one.more.thing.
I think it was pretty obvious that I had reached my limit.

And so, he gave me a ticket.

Apparently, it's a possiblity to have it dismissed by taking care of the registration.  (Which by the way, my handyman already took care of for me.  Isn't he the very best ever?!)

I made it home safe and sound by about ten-thirtyish in the morning.  That's thirty-one-and-a-half-hours after this adventure began.  You have no idea how excited I was to see all of my {sleeping gear}!

Truly.  I slept until 4:30pm.

In case you missed the first parts:

1 comment:

  1. Oh my goodness! You had quite the adventure!! Sounds like a lot of frustrating things, but everything worked out in the end. I'm sure your brother was glad to have you at his wedding. I hope you have a much quiter, less hectic, weekend planned this week! :)


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