The last day of the meetings was quite a letdown. I'd had a great time, enjoyed the people and had plenty of sex. I had no idea that it would be such a sexual experience, but I wasn't complaining. By early afternoon of the last day, nothing was really happening that concerned me, several people had already left for the airport, and I was ready to go. My boss, Brenda, was in the same boat, and ready to leave. We conferred, and decided to head to the airport to see if we could catch an early flight.
After a hot, mid-afternoon taxi ride to the airport, we hustled to the ticket counter to change flights. Unfortunately, the local military base had given leave to a lot of soldiers, and there was a long line in front of us. Undaunted, we waited our turn.
"Good afternoon," chirped a perky red-head agent. "How can I help you?"
Brenda took over – her being my boss and a couple of years older than me – and started in. Handing over the boarding passes she said, "We'd like to change our flight, and get on an earlier one if we could. Ours doesn't leave until after six."
"Let's see what I can do." Her name tag said her name was Shelly and that she was from Montrose, Colorado. "It looks like the flight you are on is oversold, so it would be nice if I could move you, but I don't think there are any seats on the other flight. Ok, it looks like there is one flight that gets you into Phoenix earlier, but no connections to Boise until the one you are on. Oh, that early flight is sold out too. So many people trying to get out of town for the long weekend. I'm so sorry, but there's nothing I can do."
I cleared my throat to get her attention, smiled what I thought was my most endearing smile, and spoke up. "It would be awful nice of you to figure out a way to make this happen. We'd certainly be indebted to you."
She smiled back at me, one of those smiles that said, "Fuck you. No special treatment. And stop trying to flirt your way in," but the words only sounded like an insincere "I'm sorry."
We spent the next several hours reading, wandering around the tiny airport, eating and trying to nap. Eventually we boarded our flight, tired from sitting around, and then we sat some more. The pilot taxied to the end of the runway, and then came on the PA system.
"Good afternoon, er, evening, folks. It looks like there are thunderstorms in the Phoenix area right now, and Air Traffic Control is keeping us on the ground here in Palm Springs until it clears. Latest word is that it will be about 45 minutes. Now I know it's a hundred and nine degrees outside, so if you'll keep the window shades down, we'll keep the engines running and the air conditioning on, and by way of this announcement, we're asking our flight attendant to start a beverage service to help us all stay cool.
"And by the way, please try not to drink too much. This aircraft only has one bathroom, and I just got word it's not functioning. We could return to the gate and have it repaired, or keep our place in the takeoff queue. That way the second Air Traffic Control gives us the green light we can get you all on to Phoenix or wherever your final destination may be. If you have any objection to this plan, please push you flight attendant call button."
No one did.
Sixty-five minutes later we took off. We landed in Phoenix ten minutes before our connection to Boise was scheduled to leave. Brenda and I hustled from the 'C' concourse to the 'B' as fast as we could, and made it there before our connecting flight left. But not before the door to the jetway had been closed, and apparently nothing short of an act of God was opening it again. Shit.
Back in a line once again, we tried to get re-scheduled on another flight. Nothing was going out later that night, and on our airline, the next scheduled flight wouldn't get us home until mid-afternoon. While I stayed to try and work things out there, Brenda tried another airline.
They wouldn't even give us a free hotel, since they claimed "weather-related flight delays" and other "acts of god" were not their responsibility. They did, however, give me a voucher for a reduced-cost hotel. I took it. And the early morning flight on another airline was the best that they were able to book.
Meanwhile, Brenda was able to re-book her flight on yet another airline and get in a couple of hours after me. We caught the hotel shuttle and prepared to spend the night without our luggage.
The hotel was nearly booked, and because I had only one voucher, they would only give us one room for the lowered cost. We looked at each other and groaned, just wanting this trip to be over.
"Fine," she said. "Does it have two beds?"
