Feb 10, 2007
Feb 28, 2007
In Dallas, we thought we were good to go. We'd been able to wrangle seats together and even though we were told we had to de-plane in Dallas, that we didn't have seats together for this last leg either, and that we had to check in again for this next leg... we were also told we were on the same plane. So... no biggie... right? Wrong. We grabbed our stuff (a camera, a camcorder, a backpack, and a briefcase), and got off thte plane. We'd waited until the plane was empty, as had some others who were supposed to be travelling on to Orlando with us, because we thought we had loads of time. But, as we left the gangway and entered the terminal, a guy with the airline was there asking where we were going. We said... oh, we're getting back on the plane to head to Orlando. And he said... no, you're not. You're going to gate C32 to get on that plane to Orlando. We were at gate D27 or something. We said... no, we're supposed to get back on this plane. A comment the pair in front of us mimiced as we all started looking at each other in fear. You see, our plane had gotten in very late from Phoenix, and from what the gate agent was telling us, we had only minutes to make it to terminal c and get to our plane actual on time. We once again told him no, he must be mistaken as the flight attendants had specifically said our plane was going on to Orlando. Gruffly he said, no, the flight attendants knew nothing. The plane and the gate had been changed. Our plane was now going to Tulsa, and if we wanted to go to Orlando, we needed to hustle. So... we hustled. As did the other couple with us. As we were running to our new gate I was asking the other couple if they'd said anything to the grumpy gate agent about there being other people still on that plane thinking they were going to Orlando. They replied that they had and we ran to the skylink, got on board, and then ran to our gate, getting there just on time. Sadly, we couldn't get seats together on this plane, and ended up sitting one in front of the other, both in window seats, at the back of the plane. I had two kids behind me, in the last row, kicking me seat the whole way, and one next to me kicking my leg the whole way. I was glad to get up above 10,000 where I could break out the ipod and the bose headphones. I spent two hours flying from Dallas to Orlando listening to some great tunes, ignoring the constant kicking, and trying to decompress from the events of first Phoenix and then Dallas. I was hoping Orlando was kinder, as it had been a long day.