Here and There

I just got back from a 3 day business trip to Los Angeles. You all know I hate to travel on business. This was a better trip than most, but I still want to complain.

First, when I tried to print off my boarding pass the night before I was to leave, none of the numbers on my reservation would work so I ran into work on Monday morning to see if the confirmation number was in one of the other numerous e-mails I'd received about the trip. I forgot my badge to get into the department and nobody was there yet so I had to go home, get the badge, and go back to work. Still nobody there so my trip wasn't in vain. I searched through the emails two or three times and still couldn't find the number so I called the travel company and they said it was on the reservation sheet I had. I read the sheet to them and they couldn't find it either so then they gave me the number. I don't know why nobody could give me the number till I proved I didn't have it.

Second, I left early for the airport because they're working on the road between here and there (of course) and I'd heard there were sometimes long delays. There weren't any, so I got to the airport early - but better too early than too late.

Then I couldn't find which gate to go to so I just got in the security line closest to the airline I was using. There were two what-ever-you-call-the-people-who-check-your-boarding-pass-before-you-go-to-the-security-line, but only one of them was working. The other one just stood at his podium and ordered people to the other line. I guess they have to get their kicks some way. It was the wrong line (of course), but the "whatever-she's-called" told me to go to the B concourse which wasn't anywhere close to the ticket counter

It wasn't B (of course), it was A. So I went there. It was the last gate at the end of concourse A (of course). There was a coffee cafe in the middle of the waiting area near the gate. I don't like the smell of brewing coffee and it was making me nauseated so I tried to sit as far away as I could, but that area was really hot so I walked down to some of the stores. It was really hot there too. I know because I heard several skinny women complaining and skinny women rarely complain about it being too hot. Nothing like sitting on a plane for 3 1/2 hours cheek to jowl with sweaty people, is there?

Anyway, I finally got on the plane and there were only two people in the three seats where I was located! That hardly ever happens any more, but I switched planes in Las Vegas and it happened again. My lucky day!

At Las Vegas, it was a little walk from the gate where I got off the plane to the gate where I got on the next plane. That was a little annoying since it was the same airline, but it wasn't really that far. It just wasn't marked well and it was hard to get around all the slot machines which, by the way, are way too noisy.

Only an hour and a half till I reached the Burbank airport and from there I had to catch a shuttle to the hotel. The street signs from here to there said "shuttles" so I expected the shuttles to stop between those signs. Wrong. You had to cross the street to get to the shuttles. Now, if the can erect 6 signs that say "shuttles" with arrows pointing forward, they could have put up one sign with an arrow pointing to the left.

(By the way, I much prefer the shuttles in the Los Angeles area to the taxi's I've taken there. The taxi drivers tend to be surly and uncooperative - I've only met two, but that's the impression I got. The shuttle drivers are much nicer and the shuttle is cheaper by at least half.)

[In case you're interested, I shared the shuttle with a half dozen nuns who were going on a retreat. We dropped them off at the nun's retreat house which was a large castle hidden in the hills somewhere between Burbank and Los Angeles. It had gargolyes and a big iron castle-type gate in front of the door. One of the nuns told me it looked even more like a castle on the inside. She said she thought it used to be owned by a car salesman.]

Then I got to the hotel. It advertised a lovely Japanese garden where you could enjoy sit an enjoy a tranquil garden and brook in the middle of downtown Los Angeles. It was a beautiful little garden with a brook and waterfall, but the loveliness fought with the utilitarian tables and chairs set up for the nightly beerfest and the tranquility was marred by the ubiquitous TV sets that blare in most in-door bars.

The hotel was ok - it was clean and comfortable which is all I really ask for a hotel. But it had a real thermostat so I could set the temperature in my room to my liking and it actually almost worked. It had black out curtains which completely shut out the sun so when I was ready to go to bed on Indiana time it was dark as night in my room while the sun shone outside on California time. The bathroom was a little small, but I could shut the door without straddling the toilet, the towels were nice and big, and the shower worked well.

Now is my favorite part - the trip home. YEAH! The shuttle driver got to the hotel 15 - 30 minutes early, but I was prepared for that. The only problem was that the one hotel clerk was helping two other customers who spoke some English but mostly something that sounded like German. The clerk spoke English and Japanese so their conversation was going slowly. I told the shuttle driver I'd be with him as soon as I checked out and he said "No problem", took my bags to the shuttle, and waited patiently. The clerk overheard me and abandoned the other customers momentarily to attend to me.

Of course, since the shuttle came early I got to the airport way too early so of course I got my tickets, checked in my bag, and walked through the security line in under 10 minutes. Then I got on a little plane. Then they asked 8 or 9 people to volunteer get off. The pilot said the runways at the Burbank airport are short and because of the heat they had to take off from the shortest runway and to get the plane in the air they had to decrease the weight or we'd never make it. The volunteers were promised a seat on the next flight in an hour plus a free ticket. Since I'm fat I thought about getting off because I'd count as 1 1/2 people, but I had to catch a plane in Phoenix and at least 9 people got off anyway so I didn't have to worry about causing the plane to crash (how embarrassing those headlines would have been!) I know the thought of the plane crashing on take off was a big incentive to at two of the volunteers.)

Anyway, we made it. We landed at concourse B in Phoenix and my next plane took off from concourse A. The very end of concourse A (of course). It was a 107 degrees in Phoenix, but their airport was cool. Thank goodness. I swear it was at least a half mile jog from the landing gate to the gate where my next plane took off.

On the trip back, it looked like there were only going to be 2 people in the 3 seats where I was sitting. My seat mate was so excited, but then 2 stragglers got on the plane and one of them was seat B in our row. She was a nice lady (even though she owns 9 cats), but she squirmed like an 8 year old boy most of the trip. Even $15 worth of liquor didn't calm her down.

Now, I have a difficult time getting most seat belts on planes to close easily because (1) I'm not mechanically inclined and (2) they just fit around me, and (3) they fasten around my hips under my right boob so I can't see them and it doesn't seem polite to ask a complete stranger to hold my boob up so I can see what I doing. Anyway, this last seatbelt wasn't fastening and I finally realized the seat belt was twisted so I was trying to put the right end into the wrong end of the other part, if you know what I mean. It turned out the seat belt was permantely twisted and it wasn't that I'd gained weight between airplane 1 and airplane 2, but that the twist made the seat belt shorter. Eventually, I got the little sucker closed but all the twisting and turning had twisted my clothes so I had to unbuckle and start all over.

After take off I tried reading a book but it was hard to concentrate. The kid behind me was yelling, the passenger two seats to the left had her head set at full blast, and Miss Squirmy on my left was constantly poking me, prodding me, or stepping on my foot. So I sang 190 bottles of beer on the wall. To myself, of course. I calculated that would last about 3 hours. I would read a little, then sing a few rounds, then read a little, then sing another few rounds. I evn went to the bathroom even though I didn't need to, but Miss Squirmy invited me and I thought "Why not? What else have I got to do? First time ever, I drank all the bottles of beer on the wall. Still had 15 minutes to go.

Of course, it was actually 20 minutes because we landed late, then it took 10 minutes to taxi to the airport, another 5 - 10 minutes to start unloading the plane and another 10 - 15 minutes to get me off the plane.

Then I had to go pick up my luggage. My bag was one of the last ones off the plane (of course), it took forever for the shuttle bus to pick me up to take me to the car park, and I had to leave Miss Squirmy standing at the shuttle island trying to remember where she parked. All she could remember was that it was in "long term parking". There must me 5 or 6 long term parking lots at the airport. Made me feel guilty to abandon her, but she didn't seem concerned and did seem to want to get rid of me so I said good-bye and left her there. I hope she's not still there.

It was a good shuttle ride. There were gentlemen on the shuttle that helped me haul my bag up the stairs and directed me to one of the few empty seats (they were standing), and the shuttle driving sang out cheerfully "Have a good night" to every passenger as they left the shuttle. I know because everybody else had got off before we got to my stop (of course).

I got home 1 hour and 50 minutes after the plane landed, but the only thing that counted was I got home.