Sunday, February 13
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Monday, February 14
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Tuesday, February 15
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Wednesday, February 16
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Thursday, February 17
Don called me at work to tell me he had contacted Super Shuttle
to pick us up the following morning. The pick-up time seemed
frightfully early to me, so I asked him to call them back and
get a later time. He did, and they gave us a time about 45 minutes
later than the one before: 7:15 AM for our 8:50 AM flight. That
seemed time enough, but they warned Don that the later pick-up
time would be "at your own risk."
Boy, were they not kidding.
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Friday, February 18
We woke at 6:30 AM as planned, and were ready when Super Shuttle
picked us up at 7:15. But after our pick-up, the driver
headed south to Sunnyvale to pick up his next fare,
then north to Menlo Park to pick up the third. He seemed to
wander around the side streets of Menlo Park, trying to find
his way back to 280.
The upshot of this was that we arrived at SFO at 8:40 AM, almost
an hour and a half after our pick-up, and we missed our plane.
I had forgotten that it was a holiday weekend (President's
Day). All flights were not only booked, but overbooked. When
we did not check in on time, they gave our seats to someone
else who had also purchased a ticket.
We were told we would be put on stand-by for the next plane
scheduled to leave from SFO to Honolulu. I looked at the
board and noticed that that flight came in from Chicago. I
thought this was good news, as there was a late-season blizzard
in Chicago. Perhaps several people would decide not to take
the trip and there would be seats available on the flight.
Don and I had a late breakfast at the food court. I put the
paperwhite I had picked in our garden that morning in a bottle
and put it on the table. I hoped to add a tropical touch to
the scene. I also hoped to keep our spirits up. But inside,
I was blaming myself. I was the one who had insisted on a
later pick-up time. I should have objected when the driver
headed south. I should have mentioned our 8:50 AM flight. I
should have done or not done something to get us to
Hawaii on time.
I had that feeling all day. The Chicago flight did not arrive
because of the weather in Chicago, so we didn't get on that flight.
I got us on stand-by for the next flight at 3:25. Don told me
not to worry. "As Rachel says," he quoted, "Oh, you've been
through much worse."
The 3:25 flight was delayed to 7:20 PM. There was another
flight leaving at 6:15, so I tried to get on stand-by for that
one. I was told they couldn't do that because the 6:15
flight was to Maui, not Honolulu. This was the third time I
had stood in line to get information on stand-by flights and
the first time I'd been told this.
Brad's words came back to haunt me. The discount tickets I'd
bought over the Internet are worth the discount only if
nothing goes wrong. Something had definitely gone wrong with
our plans, and now we were hopelessly screwed.
I pleaded with the agent, who called her supervisor.
I also asked for a wheelchair, since Don went with me everywhere
and he was obviously beginning to tire. This was the third time
I'd asked for one, but this time one actually arrived. Don
was in the chair and I was crouched in front, holding his hand
and reassuring him, when the super showed up.
I explained we were on our way to a commitment ceremony. "It
would be a shame if the guests show up but not the bride and
groom," I said, "or the groom and groom in this case." She
OK'd our being on the Maui stand-by. Perhaps the wheelchair
helped.
While she was doing the necessary fixes in the reservation
computer, Don told me he was OK. "I'm tired," he said, "but
no more so than anyone else would be. I imagine you have more
cause to be tired than I do, waiting in all those lines."
"Well," I told him, "it's not how I imagined it would be, but this
is okay because I'm not at work and I'm with you."
"Oh, yeah," he said, smiling.
"It's not quality time, but at least it's some time with you."
"Well, then," he said, looking around, "let's just stay here."
We waited through two more stand-bys but didn't make it on either
one. I had to argue to be put on the last list because we had
already been put on the list for "the next flight"--which was
still, absurdly enough, the flight out of Chicago, which had
still not left O'Hare. "You're not supposed to be on the 7:20
flight stand-by list," I was told, because "it's not the next
flight after the one you missed."
"But look at the departure times," I said. "That flight is now
scheduled to leave at 10:55 PM. Doesn't it make more sense to
say the 7:20 flight, which really is the next flight
to leave San Francisco for Honolulu, is the 'next flight' after
the one we missed?"
I got nowhere with this reasoning. But when the woman staffing
the station looked us up, she found us listed for both flights.
She was baffled by this. "You can't be on two stand-by lists,"
she said, despite the evidence of her own eyes.
It didn't matter. We didn't make it on the 7:20 flight, and at
7:45, the flight out of Chicago was cancelled. The blizzard
had finally won.
We went to the ticket counter and got tickets to Honolulu for
Monday, February 21. It was the earliest he could get us in.
He also said there was no way to get us to Hilo on the 21st,
but they made a reservation for us for the 22nd. I found it
difficult to believe there were no seats from Honolulu to Hilo
for the entire day, but I was too exhausted to argue.
But Don wasn't. He persuaded the ticket agent to change our
tickets, despite the fact we had missed the flight through
"our" fault.
We didn't know it at the time, but he actually booked us into
business class seats from San Francisco to Honolulu. It was
a wonderful perk to get out of ten hours of miserable waiting
and disappointment. Don later said he thought the agent was
"family."
We stepped outside and looked for transportation home. I was
loathe to take Super Shuttle again (and vowed I would never
give them any more business). The Milbrae CalTrain shuttle
bus stop was there and I asked Don if we should take it instead.
He said, "Whichever comes first." Instantly, a shuttle bus
appeared and we got on. In less than 30 seconds, we were on
our way home again.
Our timing proved excellent at the other end of the ride, too,
as we got to the station barely two minutes before the train
arrived. I could see the headlights on the tracks as we
got off the bus. I grabbed all the bags, knowing Don does
not run well with luggage, and we scampered up to the platform.
The train arrived moments later and we scurried on board and
collapsed, exhausted, in a coach seat.
It was the first bit of timing that had gone right all day.
I apologized again about missing the flight. "If I hadn't
tried to manage everything, we'd have been on time," I said.
"I don't want you to feel bad about that," Don said. "I thought
the pick-up time was ridiculous, too, and I agreed to change it."
We arrived home and went almost immediately to bed.
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An Inauspicious Start
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Saturday, February 19
We woke too late to join the FunRun, but had our own fun in bed
anyway. We got up in time to join them for coffee, where we
ran into Roger. He said we needed to meet with him sometine
after March 7th to discuss the union ceremony. I got his address
so I could mail the material I had sent to Diana.
Then Don and I had a day together. We drove up Page Mill Road
to Skyline, then to Los Trancos and MonteBello space preserves,
where there are some dandy trails Don said he'd like to bike.
I thought we might hike some of them today, but it was too
windy and cold up on the ridge.
We drove down the other side to Pescadero, but Duarte's
was too crowded for lunch. Se we decided to eat at San
Gregorio instead, but I took Don to Pebble Beach first.
He marveled at the agates and unusual rock formations, and we explored
tide pools where we found sea urchins and a few anemonies, but
no starfish.
At San Gregorio, the food selection was not tempting and I didn't
like the looks of LaHonda, so I had the idea to drive all the
way back into Palo Alto and eat at the Penninsula Creamery. Don
liked this idea so that's where we ended up.
Driving down University Avenue, I noticed that Hitchcock's
The Lady Vanishes was on the bill at the Stanford, so
I suggested we see it this evening. Don said he'd like that,
too, so after a late lunch, we went home, arriving around 4:30 PM.
I printed out the ceremony stuff for Roger while Don napped.
I did a load of laundry and Don surfed the web. When the time
came for the movie, we drove back to Palo Alto and joined quite
a sizeable crowd to see this little-known classic. It was an
excellent print and the sound quality was better than I've ever
heard.
Afterwards, we stopped at Prolific Oven for a bite to eat and to shop
for a wedding cake. Don really liked the carrot cake. I
was hoping the Chocolate Orange Almond would be as impressive
as its name, but it wasn't. The three flavors didn't really
marry unless you took a swig of steamed milk with it. Unfortunately,
we will not have an expresso machine to steam milk for our
sixty-some wedding guests.
Sixty-some wedding guests! Yikes!
It better not rain that weekend.
We'll have nowhere to put them.
At the end of the day, as we snuggled into bed, we both agreed
that it had been a perfect day. It was our own private holiday,
and all we really needed for that was each other.
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