or, how Paul and Arlene went to a bunch of new places, met interesting people, and ate good food.
So, my bud Chris finally decided to get married. (Well, all right; “finally” has some unfairly loaded implications, so strike that from the record). Fortunately for us, his wedding was the Saturday after MEC, and I was already going to be in the neighborhood. Accordingly, I planned to fly from Anaheim to Sacramento, and we arranged for Arlene to meet me there on Friday afternoon.
First, I had to get there. I arrived at the John Wayne International Airport (great name, huh?) and checked in for my United (motto: “At least we’re not Northwest!”) flight.
The last time I flew United was during their infamous “Summer of Hell“, and so I wasn’t looking forward to the flight delay I fully expected.
Sure enough, my flight from Anaheim to San Franscisco was delayed. The helpful gate agent rerouted me from Anaheim to Los Angeles, thence to Sacramento. Bad news: I’d be flying on a turboprop SNA-LAX, then a CRJ LAX-SMF. I’m not fond of either of those types of aircraft, but that’s OK; they were both short flights. I was able to get into the United Red Carpet Club, where I had a delicious supper of crackers and some really good little packages of sharp cheddar. My outbound flight to LAX was late (big surprise), and when I got to Terminal 8 I heard them paging me to report to my gate IMMEDIATELY, DOGGONE IT. I stopped at an intermediate gate and asked them to call ahead to my gate (which they did, unlike my last trip through Seattle on Delta.) When I arrived at the gate, I found out why they wanted me: my flight to Sacramento was 100% full, and they were going to have to bump someone else to accomodate me, since I’d been delayed. They found a volunteer for the bump, so I made it to Sacramento and found a not-very-nice hotel. I was so tired by the time I got there that I forgot to take my key out of the door lock.
The next morning, I got up early, finished a book chapter, did a ton of laundry, and went to the airport to pick up Arlene.
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