Getting to Seattle

Daughter #3 shared this story with me about her recent trip to Seattle for a mother/daughter trip.  I thought you might enjoy the journey.

Daughter #3 speaks.

My travel day started out with me rather exhausted.  I had just spent several days getting my children’s program for church properly arranged.  Program.  Substitute teachers.  Notices to parents.  Not a small job, actually.  Then, there was the NewVoices choir retreat with husband – away from home.

Finally back at home, I was able to put finishing touches on the plan for the three days in Seattle.  Printed them out.  Packed.  And, I was ready to go.

On the day of travel, I needed to drive two hours to get to the airport where I’d booked my direct flight to Seattle.  I arrived at my departure airport, ticket in hand, checked in, and waited to be called to board.  An announcement was made that the flight was being delayed because so many of us had taken carry-on luggage, not checking it for the flight, that four passengers were needed to check their bags before that flight could take off.

I figured that I could help with that; and, so, I checked my carry-ons (as did three other passengers), and we were ready to go. And, no, we didn’t pay the check baggage fee.  In the air, I felt like I was on a rollercoaster.  Smooth never happened during that flight.  I don’t know if anyone became air sick, but I was not feeling well.

You know how, when your plane has arrived at its intended destination and everyone starts getting up and gathering their belongings to disembark?  Well, that didn’t seem to happen when we arrived in Seattle.  Passengers were simply remaining in their seats.  I was sitting in the last row of the airplane.

I thought, okay, as long as there is no stampede to the exit, this time, I’ll just get up and walk to the door.  I really wasn’t feeling all that well because of the turbulence and thought I’d feel better if I could get my feet on terra firma more quickly.  Half way to the front of the plane, I had to stop and wait for people who were taking their luggage out of the overhead storage.  While I was quietly (I stress – quietly) waiting for to move forward, a woman with two small children said, “You know, we all have to wait.”  This startled me.  My reply was , “Why are you getting angry with me, when I am just standing here?”

I was not happy.   I was, after all, simply standing there, waiting to leave.  I was causing no ruckus.  No rudeness.  Nothing that could be construed as being unkind or uncivilized.

As people started to move, I came to a gentleman who was ready to step into the aisle with no one in front of him, and I asked him if I could go around him, that I only had a small backpack.  He was kind enough to oblige.  At the same time, a woman across the aisle from him, sitting next to the window, said, “We all have to wait our turn, you know.”  By now, this rudeness had caused me to feel angry.  So, I responded, “Others have things happening and don’t pretend that you know what is happening to me.”

As I left the airplane, I felt really angry.  I was going to be with my mom and sister for a few days.  This was not a good way to begin.

Because I’d checked my luggage as requested, that meant that I would be picking it up at the baggage claim.  I managed to find my way to baggage claim, only to find it under construction.  There was also no way to tell which carousel had my luggage.  As I found out later, the airport had been hit with a cyberattack the previous weekend.  Nothing worked!  Finding someone to help me, I thought my bags were going to be on carousel #14.  So did many of the other people standing around with me.

We waited at carousel #14 for fifteen minutes, until all of the bags had been picked up.  Ours never arrived.  So, I went to the Alaska baggage claim counter, where a very friendly service person looked up my name and departure city; I was told that my baggage would be on carousel #15.  Gathering everyone else, we headed to carousel #15 where we found all of our luggage sitting in the middle of the room.  We had wasted all of that time, only to find our unaccompanied luggage had arrived.  Many of the older passengers were very upset.

Now, I had to find my way to the taxis  . . .  Miracle of miracles!  The taxi driver was quite a nice guy and very helpful.

I arrived at the Airbnb before mom and my sister, who were out shopping for the few groceries we would need during our stay.  They said the market had a diverse and interesting clientele.  But, that’s a story from Mom for a different day.

Be Safe and Be Well
The Cranky Crone
Thoughtful comments are appreciated.