By the final morning in Niagara Falls, the Travelin’ Thornberries had finally reached that point when we were sick of people and expense. Yes, we’d had a good time, gathered all of the neat observations we’re sharing in this account and were now ready to go back home. We packed our things, met with Marty, our Canuck cabbie, and headed back to the airport.
No Seats For You!
The return trip was an absolute nightmare. First of all, our ticket stubs told us that we didn’t have assigned seats on our connecting flight. That worried both of us, since we’d scheduled the trip months ago and had not heretofore been given reason to anticipate any problems. We pensively climbed aboard our plane flight to Detroit and waited interminably before the pilot started the plane. During that time, the cabin temperature seemed to keep climbing until passengers’ heads started blowing around the cabin like freshly popping popcorn. At one point, Jennifer looked up at the dead ceiling fans and in an Oliver Twist way, begged, “Please, sir, may we have some air?” Once the plane took off, the pilot kept us at such a steep angle of ascent that I was looking up at my own toes.
On the positive side, we arrived in Detroit ahead of schedule. Of course, that translated to our having to sit on the tarmac for an extra 15 minutes, since the airport staff hadn’t yet had time to unload the previous plane.
We'll Give You Your Seats 30 Minutes Before Take-Off, Idiot!
We did finally de-plane and found our next gate. Here was where we would have to get an explanation of why we didn’t have seats for a flight we’d booked in February. The woman running that gate was a middle-aged, dark-skinned individual with bleach-blond hair and a perpetual scowl. When we asked about our seats, she politely told us to come back 30 minutes before take-off. We reminded her that…um, WE DON’T HAVE SEATS, a factor that sort of had us worried. She responded politely again that she’d give us our seat assignments 30 minutes before take-off. No exceptions. No concessions.
Since this was a 2½ hour layover, we decided to get a picture of their sickly green Tunnel of Bliss and then something to eat. Jennifer aged rapidly while waiting on a set of hot wings for me while I sat at a table and safeguarded our luggage. She later had her revenge by the fact that they were the worst hot wings I’d ever chewed. Maybe if the bumbling kitchen employee had cooked the blood out of them, my stomach would have handled them better.We eventually learned that this particular flight had been overbooked by 13 seats, and they were now trying to trim the fat. Jennifer and I hoped we weren’t the fat. We did eventually get seat assignments, but this time we were separated. The bleach-blond gate employee told us we could maybe speak to someone on the craft about getting seats together, but by this point, we were just glad to be on the damn plane. Jennifer went first and I boarded after her a few minutes later.
Of course, her seat was in First Class, while I was stowed with the luggage. Up front, I watched her get a full body massage, free alcohol, and a facial with zucchini on her eyelids. I got rock to sit on. And I had to share it. With strangers. At least they offered water. Once. It was a short flight, so I just slept the trip away and ran from the plane to rejoin Jennifer when we touched down in Louisville.
Gargling Phlegm in Louisville
I don’t know if it was the atmospheric pressures from our flight, the differences in pollens and such in Canada, or just a final collapse of my immune system because of stress. But no sooner were we on the ground at the Louisville airport, when my sinuses went ape-nuggets. Suddenly, I was sick, my throat was sore and I felt dizzy. I would be sick for the next 4 to 5 days. Still, the trip was worth it. Despite all of the challenges we endured that you’ve now shared, we do consider ourselves to have had a wonderful time up north.
As always, thanks for sharing our trials, tribulations and jubilations!
Finis
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