Had a pretty swell time on vacation. Saw my youngest brother graduate college. Shot a bunch of clays (and missed a bunch more) a few steps from the front door with my siblings. Took advantage of the hot tub. Let my kids experience a bunch of farm animals.
On Monday my sister, my kids, and I left for the Omaha airport. We planned our trip so we met up on the way in and parted ways on the way out in Denver’s airport from San Jose and Seattle. My Blackberry buzzed at 5 PM while we were on I-29 telling us the flight was on time, but by the time we got there it was 30 minutes behind schedule – already a problem for my sister’s connection. The kids and I were supposed to continue on the same plane to Seattle, so there was less concern.
Then it quickly fell to an hour, two hours, and two and a half hours behind schedule. So I started to doubt they’d be using the same plane to Seattle.
Sure enough, I was going to be spending the night in Omaha. Since it was mechanical failure, United had to put us up. I got the gate agent to change my sister’s plans to – she was going to spend the night in Denver – so she could help me wrangle the kids. I wasn’t too thrilled about wrangling them and the bags to the airport and through security again, but it would have been nearly impossible without my sister along.
We gathered up everything and headed to the shuttle to get our two rooms at the Hilton – Omaha’s only 4 diamond hotel, they say – which is when it hit me. At a Hilton I was going to be expected to tip the driver, the bell hops, the maid, and anyone else who said anything to me. I looked in my wallet. The only thing I had was two singles, a couple of fifties and a hundred.
I gave the driver my singles when we got there. He looked at me like I should have given him nothing instead. We stiffed the bellhops, stole one of the luggage carts, checked in (after convincing the lady at the front desk to take my vouchers because the gate agent had put my daughter’s name on them – my four year-old daughter with no ID).
Then it was decided some food was in order. Because the Hilton is downtown, there is no food available at 9 PM on Monday night. So we ate at the hotel restaraunt. $20 for some mac ‘n’ cheese, $25 for meatloaf. Plus tip. At least I was able to break a big bill so I could tip in the morning.
After getting up at 3:30 AM to make the 4:30 shuttle back to the airport, lugging my stuff back to the ticketing coutner, explaining that I already paid the $15 per suitcase, struggling through security with two kids again, we were out of Omaha. When I got to Denver they told me they couldn’t put my two seats together. I didn’t object. I was just going to put my daughter by herself and let hilarity ensue. (Un?)fortunatly they managed to find two seats together to Seattle.
Once in Seattle, since my wife wasn’t able to pick us up as planned since she was at work, we had to take another shuttle with ticket and tip expenses.
We finally made it back to my house 24 hours after I left my parents’ house. I can drive it in 20. (Of course, that doesn’t account for my smooth trip out, but it is still rather annoying.)
At some point I need to add up the extra costs associated with United’s plane breaking and present them with a bill. They should at least split it with me.