So J.P. and I got up at 4:30 Friday morning to get to the airport in time for our 7:00 flight. We were told that it takes a long time to get through security in Las Vegas, so we needed to allow plenty of time. Well we got right through, which meant we had plenty of time for breakfast.
Our connection was in Atlanta, and we slept most of the way there. We landed around 2:00, and our connection was at 2:40—perfect! We checked the screen to find out which gate we were departing from, and in the last column of the display, you know, the one where it displays the departure time, guess what it said. You got it—CANCELLED.
My first thought: That’s okay, there’s another one at 3:40. I bet they just cancelled the earlier one to consolidate and have a full plane. Well, they had a full plane all right. At 3:40 and 4:40 and 5:40; basically all of the hourly flights through 8:40 were full. We had a shot at the 9:40, but we’d have been on standby and there was only one seat available.
We asked about another airline. We asked about flying into Baltimore or New York. We’d been gone for eight days—we just wanted to get HOME! But it wasn’t meant to be. And we didn’t feel like hanging around at the airport, waiting and hoping for our names to be called.
So we had an adventure instead. J.P. got in line for a rental car, and I got us a room at the Hampton Inn. A room that was better than the Aladdin, by the way—a king bed, free wireless access, and soaps and shampoo that we weren’t afraid to use.
So what did we wild kids do on the loose in Atlanta on a Friday night? We went shopping for toothbrushes and underwear.