Today I did something so stupid — truly so stupid. I had booked “get away fares” at Southwest so I could go to the puppy party. I paid no attention to the routing coming home. It turned out to be Nashville to Baltimore to Chicago to Albuquerque. That’s bad, but I made it worse. I landed in Baltimore and looked at the departure screen — there was the Albuquerque flight at the gate at which I had just arrived. I was happy! So, I sat down with Mills (remember? That’s my Kindle) and was happily reading. I looked up at the screen and saw the flight was delayed a bit, but my brain was swarming with images of puppy and not a single practical thought, so I went back to reading Mills. Time to stand in line. I was A27. I went to the appropriate stanchion. Another passenger walked up to me and said “What’s your number?” I said, “A27.” He said “No, I’m A27.” I said, “Well, shoot. Southwest made a mistake.” He said, “No, you have a different flight number on your boarding pass.” I said, “Oh, S**T.” Sure enough I’d missed my plane, on a Sunday afternoon the day before Valentine’s Day.
So, SW started trying to get me on other flights Stand By (that’s what you become when you blow your reservation). I got on another Baltimore/Chicago/Albuquerque flight. In Chicago, I was bumped off the plane because the flight from Chicago to Albuquerque was full of people who had “reserved” seats. I sat in Chicago for a l-o-n-g time. Finally there was a seat on a plane to Denver with a 10 minute connection to the Denver/Albuquerque flight. Southwest held the flight to Albuquerque for a bunch of weary travelers trying to get back here. My luggage had been at Southwest baggage for many hours when I showed up.
I drove the 45 minutes home, arrived at 12:30 AM, greeted all the baddogs, took the tape off Nola’s ears, and now I’m going to bed. I’ll clean the residue from the red baby’s ears tomorrow morning.
