Showing posts with label atlanta tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label atlanta tales. Show all posts

Friday, June 17, 2011

A Tale of a Girl Who Went to Atlanta Part 3--The Luggage of Doom

Click here for Parts 1 and 2 of the Altanta Trip Series.

So Gorgeous and I spent the rest of Wednesday evening with his family.  My BIL drove us (Gorgeous, myself, and their sister) around Atlanta, showing us all the sights and finally took us back to his apartment where Gorgeous's mom and grandparents were waiting. 

Obviously, we were still stressed about the incident at the hotel and though Gorgeous's family was very nice and supportive, I don't think we were really able to relax until the next morning.

The evening at the hotel was rife with excitement as Gorgeous and I were repeatedly awoken by gunshots, sirens, and honking horns.  Apparently, this is not a normal occurrence; we were just lucky.  :P  By the time morning came, I think we both might have gotten about four hours of sleep.  Still, there were wonderful plans for the day, so we drank lots of coffee and went to our luggage to get ready.

Yes, THE luggage.  The luggage that cost us $50 to check when just a couple years ago (maybe less) it would have been free.  (obviously, I'm angry at the airline and you'll definitely understand why by the end of this series).  I checked out the garment bag first when it became immediately apparent something was wrong.

The hangar that was supposed to be securely attached to the bag (in order to hang it up) was gone.  I hadn't noticed this the night before because we'd just laid it on the floor.  So, there was damage.  But wait!  I then found a nice little hole ripped in the bag indicating someone had been dragging this bag on the ground (a very light bag that had a total of three dresses in it--I didn't even have to drag it on the ground to carry it).  More damage!  Yay!

And then I opened the other bag.

That hat I'd told you about in Part 1--the victorian-style hat I'd trimmed myself to wear on the day of the wedding--it was totally crushed.  I'd packed everything just right so that the hat would NOT be crushed simply because another piece of luggage was put on top of my bag.

Three instances of damage and I paid them $50 to do it.  I was getting really ticked.  But since this was still supposed to be a wonderful vacation, I tried my best to brush it aside so Gorgeous and I could enjoy the day we had planned with our family.

Breakfast was the first thing planned and my BIL picked us up again in the morning to take us to his apartment so we could wait for his fiance to show up.  When she did, a few of us walked to the restaurant while our grandparents rode in the car.  It was a lovely walk in a very nice neighborhood.  My soon-to-be sister pointed out a plot of land my BIL had dreams of buying one day and I couldn't help but agree with him that it was gorgeous.  It was a huge lot (especially for a city) and completely wooded.  I love the woods and enjoy the conveniences of a city, so I was totally enamored.

The restaurant was a cute little bakery that also had a wide selection of breakfast foods.  Gorgeous, being the eater he is ordered this:

Look at how huge that is!!  And it's got peanut butter in the middle!

And here he is ready to devour it:


He almost ate it all, too.  The waiter was VERY impressed.  He said he'd seen a total of four people ever finish the thing.

All the stresses of the previous day and just a couple hours ago were quickly dwindling away.  I could almost forget my total rage at the airline.  I was even having so much fun, I decided to take a picture of my BIL and his fiance:





I'll pause for the awwws :)  They really are a very cute couple.

So, after a rough start of a vacation, everything finally seemed to be turning around.  We still had a full day ahead of us--the men had to get tuxes and the ladies had a nice night of getting our nails done planned.  But you'll have to wait for Part 4--(title not yet thought of)  ;) to hear about all that!  

Do any of you, dear readers, have any vacation stories to tell?  Any airplane woes? 

Monday, June 13, 2011

A Tale of a Girl Who Went to Atlanta Part 1--The Flight of Horror

Monday Morning Movie will be pushed to tomorrow

Hello, strangers!  It feels like it's been so long since I've been around the blogosphere.  It's hard to believe it hasn't even been a week.  But oh, what a week! 

It started with packing on Wednesday.  And me being the ever wise and scrupulous packer, I fit everything into two pieces of luggage (a regular bag and a garment bag) so that my husband and I could each have one thing to check (and therefore save some money).  I was amazing with my deft organizing skills!  No one in the history of the world had ever packed as well as me!  Clothes were in their proper place!  The toiletry bags were wedged in so neatly!  Even the victorian-style hat I'd trimmed all by myself to go with my dress the day of the wedding fit perfectly between my shorts and blankie.  Nothing could come against me!  I was on fire!

And then we got to the airport to check in.  Still, I was as happy as I could be.  We wouldn't have to pay to check any luggage because my husband and I only had one piece each!  This was all going to go perfectly!

So I slid my credit card through the machine and punched the buttons with vivacity.  How many checked bags?  Only two, I say!

...

...

...

That's $50, please.  Would you like to pay for that with your credit card?

WHAT THE FREAK?!

Yeah, it seems that with a certain airline, you have to pay for EVERY PIECE OF LUGGAGE YOU CHECK.  And of course, with such a hefty fee, you'd expect some level of professionalism with regards to your belongings (more on that later).  I was deflated.  $50 for two pieces of luggage.  Emily had been used.

But I paid it.  What else could I do?  They could not be carried on.

The rest of the airport experience went by dismally.  $50?!  I just couldn't get over it.  I'd packed so well for nothing.

During our second flight (yes, we had a layover in Charlotte), and several hours later, I was starting to feel a little better.  Time was indeed healing my wound.  Unfortunately, the middle seat in which I sat was making me nauseous.  I eagerly waited for the flight attendants to come by and offer me my drink.  Ginger ale would hit the spot and calm my squirrely tummy!  The minutes dragged until one of the attendants came out with a basket of drinks.  But wait!  I thought.  You need a cart!  That little basket isn't enough for all of us!

It wasn't indeed.  But it was more than enough for first class. 

I waited.  And waited.  Thinking perhaps they were simply waiting for us to hit the middle of our flight when the pilot came on and said we were only minutes outside of Atlanta and would be beginning our descent. 

Now let me tell you, dear readers, that a nauseous tummy is more than happy to oblige you with a few extra flips and churns when a plane starts descending.  I didn't know if I'd make it.  I needed that ginger ale!

We dove down while my stomach fought to stay somewhere in the clouds, wedging itself in my throat.  I tried to look out the window, knowing I just needed to look at something that wasn't moving around so much, but my husband kept sitting forward then sitting back to catch little cloudy details here and there.  His bobbing head didn't help at all.

Luckily, I didn't actually throw up.  It was close, but I made it.  And as we were taxing (taxiing?  taxying?  sp?!) up to the terminal, I turned to him and said, "From now on, I get the window."  And he agreed.

Come by on Wednesday as I continue the tale with... The Credit Card that Wouldn't Work