It looks, in my house, as though someone is going off traveling. My suitcase is packed and sitting on my bed. My day pack is loaded with airplane items, there’s even a dose of surreptitiously acquired Ambien in my wallet for the red eye. I have a huge stack of books from the library about Mexico on the bookshelf. I have a little pile of clothes next to the suitcase — stuff to change into right before I leave for the airport, comfortable things to wear for the duration of the trip. My transportation is all lined up and I have a movie date for tonight — the idea being that if I get out for an evening show, it will be easier to stay awake until my flight takes off. Stuff to do, company, you know. What a pity that I am not going to Mexico.
What happened? I had been booked on a red eye flight. I wouldn’t book a red eye flight myself — I just don’t travel well at that time of day. But I didn’t make this reservation, the agency that organized the trip did. I pleaded for an itinerary change, there was nothing available. I was out of luck. I psyched myself up, hell, I’d take a nap upon arrival, maybe sack out early the first day and tackle the rest of the trip refreshed.
I prepared. I packed. I printed itineraries. And this morning, when I sat down at my desk, I looked at my ticket. Thursday, it said. 1255 it said. Well, all righty. Read that again. Thursday. 1255. AM. Uh oh.
I called the airlines. “Actually, we can get you out tonight! There’s a nine hour stop in Houston, then you’ll change planes…” I called the trip organizers. “How about nine hours in Houston on a stopover?” the account manager asked. 20 hours in transit, 48 hours in Mexico, another 10 hours in transit back to Seattle, give or take. Plus, no Mezo-American Reef for you, Missy, you’re too late to board the boat! Way to make an awesome impression. What a winner.
There was no good reason for me to miss this flight. But while I was scrambling to find my ticket, a friend called. I told her what was up and she said, “Yeah, this is why I’m a fan of military time.” Another friend confessed that she has missed a flight recently for similarly embarrassing reasons. “It could happen to ANYONE!” is the dominant response. Yeah, it could, but it happened to me.
This weekend, I believe I will go down to the market that has the weird mix of Mexican and Asian ingredients and get what I need to whip up a batch of mole. I will go to that Mexican joint I love and order a pile of tamales. I will read the huge stack of Mexican literature I have piled up. Maybe I’ll rent Like Water for Chocolate. I’ll turn up the heat, set out a sand box, and load my iPod with surf sounds while flipping through a book of pictures of tropical fish. I’ll buy a fifth of tequila, make a pitcher of margaritas, and it will be just like I’m there.
Ay yi yi. Me sent como una tonta. I feel like such a fool.
Que lastima! I’m sorry that you’re going through double-duty suckage: embarrassment AND no trip. I love the idea of you sitting in your living room in a sand box – perhaps wearing a swimsuit, a sun hat and Zinca on your nose – with the stack of travel books and a sweaty pitcher of margaritas right in there with ya. Smile; you’ve just dramatically cut your chances of acquiring swine flu! Oink! Heck, make that drink a double, too; it just might cancel out the double-duty suckage.
We’ve all been there — or have similar stories to tell. (Even if we don’t want to tell.)
Way to go w/ your candor & sharing the tale. Enjoy the tamales & tequila. I am sure there is another Mexico trip in your near future. 🙂
Staying home, you’ll have a much more restful weekend. Enjoy a margarita for me!
I missed a flight once. A Very Important One. It was the flight to take me (and Hubs) overseas to China to adopt our little girl (child # 3). And it was all my fault–totally screwed up (and I rarely screw up). Man, Idiots R Us. You can read the whole story by clicking on my name.
Aisus. I am so sorry to hear you’re not sunburning yourself in a boat right now. I really am. 🙁 On the flip side, if you decide you’re in the mood for another tropical clime, you could go to Ukefest at Dusty Strings this weekend.
Pam – That royally bites. I hope hearing others’ similar tales makes you feel a little less like a fool. If you want to make a day trip out to the Eastside this weekend (small comfort, I know), just holler. We’ll get you cheered up.
Airlines and travel agencies should use military time. Using AM and PM is a concession to ignorance. With military time there’s no ambiguity; handy if you’re in a tizz before travelling, as many people are.
Bummer. Muy malo. Lo siento. Tiene una cerveza?
Until next time. (Good thing you are driving to Chicago.)
Ay, no worries Pam. It can happen to anyone.Did I tell you abou the time I missed my flight to Barbados because I got the times mixed up? Sean understands, we just miss you. And I really miss your Mexican library books. The book I have is mucho malo!
Oh, Pam, that is the saddest travel story I’ve heard in a long time. What a bummer! It’s easy to see how that could happen, though. Take heart, I’m sure you’ll get another opportunity to go on one of these trips in the future.
Pam, I am still kicking myself about the flight I missed in November 2007 because I was killing time in the airport and then got stuck in the passport control line … I mean, they took off early, I rescheduled for the next day, only 50 euro “fine” — but still, STUPIDITY in action.
Here’s your big chance to profile your staycation in the same way as your planned vacation. If you do it right, as refreshing as the latter minus the sunburn 🙂