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I am awake at 5 am. Our target time to leave is 8:00 and we do pretty well, and leave at 8:10. The last time we went on a trip was at the beginning of the month, when we had to go to Washington DC for my mother-in-law’s memorial service. It was my husband, me and our three adult kids. Just as we were approaching the airport (which is about a 30 minute drive), my husband turns to me and says, “I forgot my driver’s license.” He drops the four of us off and heads back home to get it. We check in, have breakfast and board. He makes it to the gate, right AFTER they closed the door. I had told the flight attendant he was on his way, but they won’t wait. The plane pulled out and then we sat there. I was muttering numerous four letter words that are not appropriate for a family hour blog.
The pilot comes on and tells us we will be sitting there for about 20 minutes because high winds had closed all but two runways.
Okay, can I just say right here that, that is not a good thing to tell a recovering fearful flyer like myself. But truly, at that point I was stressing so much about my husband missing the plane, I didn’t even think about the high wind thing. Too much.
Then the flight attendant is asking if my husband is at the gate. They pulled the plane back in to get him! The gate lady told him she had never seen them do that before. We were so grateful. So, here is a shout out to Frontier Airlines. It totally made up for the fact that they left one of our bags in Denver.
This trip I made sure he had our passports before we left the house.
The economy parking lot was full, so we had to park in the parking garage. More than twice as much, but nothing could be done about it. At least Zung’s BMW would be covered. Since my car got serious hail damage two years ago when we went to Mexico, that is something we think about. The other advantages to parking in the garage are we didn’t have to wait for the shuttle and I didn’t have to haul my almost 50# bag up and down the shuttle stairs. The drivers used to help you with your bags, but ever since they put up the big sign that says you don’t need to tip them, the helping is hit and miss. Mostly miss. If they help with the bags, we always tip them, screw the sign.
Right before we arrived at the airport, Janelle texted me that Alfonso, the GM, was no longer at the Grand. She didn’t know any details. We removed the bottle of rum from our bag and left it in the trunk. Bummer. I was looking forward to drinking rum with him again. This part of the story wasn’t over yet, though.
I roll the beast to the terminal. We proceed to the Frontier counter. We pass the long “average traveler” line and go to the Ascent/Summit line. I ride on Zung’s coattails for this, but this year I may possibly acquire enough miles to earn my own status next year. We have a short wait and then check-in. We head to security, where there is USUALLY a priority passenger line, but today it is closed. WTH is up with that?
The security line is long, but it moves quickly. Our next stop is Chef Jimmy’s for breakfast and a pre-flight Mimosa. Or two. Maybe even three.
This is actually a Royal Mimosa, because it has some kind of red liquor in it, the name of which escapes me at the moment. Oh, and I kept it to two Mimosa’s. One for me and one for Havana. Since she is stuffed and can’t drink liquids, I drank hers.
Zung had coffee, wild, crazy man that he is.
He had an omelette, his official breakfast vacation food.
I had French Toast, with a side of bacon. I love bacon, but my last cholesterol test was pretty high and it has taken all the fun out of eating bacon. I am going to try to get over that while on vacation though. Bacon is one of my official Grand foods.
After breakfast we buy a water and a power bar and head to our gate. Zung goes to the podium to see if we can get moved up to stretch seating, but the flight is full. They are boarding a lady in a wheel chair and the gate people are talking about whether they can let the rest of us board. I hear one of them say, “David said to start boarding.” My ears perk up. Can it be “our” Dave, our favorite Frontier flight attendant? We haven’t seen him in a couple of years.
They call boarding for Ascent/Summit members, and we are first in line. I walk down the jetway with anticipation. There he is! It’s our Dave!
There are hugs and we are so happy to see him and get to catch up with him and hear how his sons and grandson are doing. He always takes such good care of us. Plus, he just does a damn good job. The other flight attendant’s just hand out the immigration and customs forms, with no help. He always gets on the speaker and tells us how to fill it our. While you might think we would know how, after 21 trips, you would be wrong. Well, you would be partially right. I always like and appreciate the review that Dave provides. And really, who knows what their flight number is?
We settle into our seats, an aisle and middle seat. Zung lets me have the aisle seat, which helps with my claustrophobia.
My ADD goes into overdrive when I fly. I watch TV, I read a magazine and play Candy Crush (if you haven’t played this, you are hereby warned that it is extremely addicting, start playing at your own risk). A rum and coke (or two) for me and a beer for Zung help the time go by.
I like to track our progress on the map on the TV. Before we know it, we are approaching Cancun.
Our flight was smooth and gets in early. Good thing. There was a baby crying on and off the whole flight. I feel bad for her. And us.
We say good-bye to Dave. We will see him in a week.
The first part of our journey is complete. Next up, immigration.