We arrive at the airport and park in the garage. We are too spoiled to park in the long-term parking anymore, aka the “have to take a shuttle and haul your suitcase up the stairs of the shuttle and they don’t run the shuttle as often as they used to and the driver doesn’t help you with your bags half the time” parking. I tell Zung the carry-on is his responsibility. I wheel my bag through the parking garage and up to the Frontier counter. I decide that it does not wheel as well as the beast. Can you tell that I am missing the beast? However, it redeems itself when it weighs in at the same 45# that it did at home. I inform Zung that in the future, we are NOT taking the carry-on because he has this unreasonable fear of our home scale being inaccurate.
After check-in we head to security. For some reason they are not using the priority lane for priority people (e.g. first class, frequent fliers). They are telling everyone they can use that lane, so we are stuck with the masses. It’s all good though, remember, I am on vacation. I tip-toe through the part where I have to take off my shoes. Did I mention that I’m a bit of a germaphobe? Not an OCD germaphobe, but just grossed out by all the germs on the common surfaces I share with the common masses of humanity. And there is a lot of humanity who has passed through here before me. Yuck. I get my sandals back on as fast as I can.
I want to try a new place for breakfast. This is a big step for me because in addition to being a germaphobe, I am superstitious, which is not a great trait for a recovering fearful flyer. Geez, as I read this, I am making myself sound rather neurotic.
We go to the Denver Chop House. I order a Mimosa (my “I’m officially on vacation” drink). She brings me a spilt of sparkling wine and a glass of orange juice, so it’s enough for two Mimosa’s. Well, if you insist. It is however, not as good as Chef Jimmy’s Royal Mimosa.
Zung has coffee.
Zung has an omelette, as I’m sure you all knew he would.
I order the french toast that is fried with apples and served with maple syrup. It sounded good, but is way too heavy and I don’t eat very much. I also order a side of bacon, my other “I’m officially on vacation” food, as if my cholesterol levels care whether I’m on vacation or not. You can see the bacon in the omelette picture. It is a healthy serving of bacon. Or unhealthy, as the case may be. I finished all my Mimosa but not all of the bacon. I was trying to eat healthy. Yea, right.
I call our credit cards to let them know we will be traveling to Mexico. While we are waiting for our food I go to the store across the way and get a magazine and a bottle of water. It takes a while for our food to arrive and although we had a lot of time when we arrived, we are feeling rushed at the end.
We pay and go to our gate and they are already boarding. This is another thing that drives Zung nuts. As an Ascent/Summit member, he gets priority boarding and he hates having to stand in line with the masses. Geez, now who is sounding neurotic?
Our seats are in the first row, so we have to put all of our bags in the overhead bins. I pull out my People magazine and Kindle and iPad.
They do the safety talk and when they do the part about how to operate the seatbelt I say the same thing I do EVERY time I fly, “It’s a seatbelt, just like any other seatbelt. And if you don’t know how to use it, you probably shouldn’t be out in public unattended.” Did I mention that I’m superstitious? I am pretty sure that if I don’t say that, something bad will happen.
I doze off a bit during take-off (wow, my fear of flying has really improved). I always hate it when the plane does that power down thing, even though I know it is normal. I wish they would say, “We are about to do that power down thing and just remember, it’s totally normal. Nothing to worry about. Carry on.” I just know that would alleviate that momentary feeling of panic I get when that happens.
I read my People magazine. I got it because it is Havana’s guilty pleasure. She’s all set with her travel pillow and trashy magazine.
It’s about the Kardasian wedding. Big yawn. I can’t for the life of me figure out the obsession with the Kardasian’s. They don’t do anything except show up to be photographed and do things so the press will write about them and have a reality show and then when they want it, ask for their privacy. I just don’t get it. And for the record, I always buy People when I fly, and that’s the only reason I bought this issue, it’s the one that was in the store.
I get done with my People pretty quickly and next turn on my Kindle. I am reading a sneak preview of Elin Hildebrand’s new novel, the Matchmaker. She is my very favorite novelist and she comes out with a new novel every summer. This summer she has released the first five chapters for free. I am a little hesitant about reading them, because the whole book does not come out until June 10th, the day we will be going back home. I don’t think it is going to take me eight days to read these five chapters and I am afraid I won’t want to read anything else until I can read the rest of her book. Spoiler alert, I was right.
The beverage cart comes around and I order a rum and Pepsi. I am not sure if we will have to pay for my drink. Zung gets his for free and sometimes they will give me mine for free since I am traveling with him. I look for my wallet. Crap! I can’t find it. I think I must have left it at the restaurant. It has $500 cash and all my credit cards. I am in a panic. Then I realize, I didn’t bring my wallet. My awesome travel bag has places built-in for all those things. I have my credit cards and my cash right there in my awesome travel bag. They don’t charge me anyway. All that panic for a double nothing.
Oh man, I really need a vacation.