Please accept my apologies, dear readers, for my recent ride on the blogging fail boat. Life has been a bit crazy in Smith Land and I just haven't had the time (or even the blogging ideas) to share with you all. But, I am back and I have lots to share. Hubby and I just got back from my younger brother's wedding in Texas. I'll save the wedding details for another post as I want to talk about something more dramatic this time... travelling by plane.
Back in May, I purchased our plane tickets and prepaid for our hotel room. We were supposed to fly from our dinky airport in our town to Detroit. From there, we were supposed to fly Memphis and then to Dallas-Love Field. Notice the phrase "supposed to." In August, I was notified that our flight itinerary had changed and that we would be flying from our dinky airport to Detroit to Memphis to Atlanta and then to Dallas. Yes, four flights and multiple possibilities for crazy. Some how, everything worked out and we made it to Dallas on Friday in one piece.
The way home is another story though. For the trip home, we were supposed to fly from Dallas to Atlanta to Detroit and then to the dinky airport. However, our trip home looked nothing like this. We dropped the rental car off promptly at 7:30 AM and then headed to the airport via shuttle. TSA was cranky, but we made it through unscathed. After sitting at the gate for a while, it became apparent that we were not going to be leaving at 9:30 AM. In fact, without making an announcement to the waiting passengers, the departure time was changed to 11:20 AM. Realizing that we wouldn't make our connection in Atlanta, hubby and I decided to talk to the gate agent. I felt so bad for the guy. Not only did he look fresh out of high school, but he didn't look like a typical polished gate agent. Instead, he looked like one of the ground crew members. After a few minutes, he found us a flight that went straight to Detroit and a connecting flight to our dinky airport. The only problem was that it was flying out of the other Dallas airport. At least the airline had a process in place to handle the problem and they provided taxi vouchers. Of course, this meant another trip through TSA.
We made it to the other airport with time to spare. At the ticket counter, I asked one of the employees about one of my random sheets of paper (it turns out when your flights are changed that a LOT of paperwork is created) and he told us to go see the guy at another desk and tell him that we were supposed to be compensated for our inconvenience. Sounded nice to me, so we went. Only to find out that the guy at the desk was an elderly curmudgeon who would rather be any where than at work. At least he gave us vouchers to compensate for our lunch.
After eating lunch, we went back to our gate only to find out that my uncle and younger sister were going to be on the same flight to Detroit and that they were sitting in the row behind us. Egads! I was actually trying to avoid flying with my sister since she can be quite the chatterbox. Luckily, I went to sleep and didn't hear her the whole way there. After saying our good-byes, we headed over to the gate for our connection flight to the dinky airport. Everything seemed to be going well until five minutes before we were supposed to board and the flight was cancelled. I mean REALLY! Our options were to stay in the airport overnight until the flight in the next morning, rent a car and drive home, or to beg my mom to drive us home. We went with option three.
So, the way home ended up being a fiasco. The moral of the story is to never trust Delta to look out for you as a customer because once they have your money the stop caring and to always have a back up plan and a spare outfit in your carry-on.