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| Day 1 - Thursday, 22 August 2002 |
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| Background:
I'm tagging along with the Bald One and some co-workers for a
conference in New Orleans. It's free for me, and cheap for them.
Geez, I sound like a collect-call commercial.
Today's Cast:
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8:45am - We are dropped off at the airport. After stuffing some last-minute laminated materials into the suitcase (which is a lot heavier than you'd expect... more than I expected, anyway), we were off to ticketing. The line moved slowly. Of course, with United loading up flights to Denver, Chicago and Los Angeles (the stopover to New Orleans), you'd expect it to move slowly given the one counter agent. Then there were two, and three. Then two - after all, it was break time for agent #1 (sounds like a bad James Bond film, eh?).
9:22am - We clear ticketing, and are heading through to the security checkpoint.
9:27am - We are detained at the security checkpoint. The boy clears fine, as does his laptop and personal property. No sirree, they have a problem with my FrankTote©. It seems that a duck, many batteries, and some of the free stuff that is to be given away (light-up pens and flashlight card things) are of concern to the x-ray screener. The bag is searched, all is well, and the screener is attracted to the flashlight card things. They are cute, admittedly. He wouldn't put them down, until finally Tubby offered him one. Screener thanked us repeatedly, repacked my bag, and sent us on our way. Was that a bribe? Bygones.
10:45am - When the plane was set to depart. We were onboard and left the gate only a few minutes later.
11:30am - We actually left the ground. Yup, we were in queue for quite some time. It's a 49 minute flight, though, so no worries about making the connection in Los Angeles for New Orleans.
12:25pm - We land in Los Angeles and exit at gate 82. Which would be okay, but the departing flight (which takes off in 20 minutes, and the doors close in 10 minutes or less) is at 67A. Needless to say, that's a long walk, particularly for someone carrying a suitcase full of laminated items, a laptop, and my tote. Fortunately, I was the passenger here, and not Huffy-Puffy, my balding porter.
12:36pm - We arrive at 67A. Bad luck for us, they've done last call, and the plane has apparently been un-glued from the gate. The guy behind the counter tells us in a firm, but not at all friendly tone, we need to see Customer Service. Right-o, that's going to work out for the best, eh? Oh yes, the plane is still not moving.
12:48pm - We're still in the non-moving line at Customer Service. The Bald One looks out the window, and is able to see that our luggage is indeed in place to be put on the plane. We, of course, are not. There is a change of people at the 67A gate, so Baldie and Julia re-approach, leaving Robert in line with Customer Service. New guy at 67A is no less friendly or sympathetic, and tell us (with excellent consistency) to see Customer Service.
12:55pm - A second agent starts up in the Customer Service window. The line moves slightly. The original agent leaves for lunch. Our plane departs from view, with no hope at all we'll be able to barge onto it. Agent #2 (in this instance) assures us that once the door has closed, the fat lady has sung. (I'm not saying agent #2 is fat, it's just an analogy.)
1:02pm - Agent #2 reissues us tickets for the 6:15pm flight, but can't say where it will depart yet - watch the boards. In checking our watches, that's 5+ hours later. We opt to go to lunch, and even leave the terminal and go across the screen to Encounter, an eatery that is elevated a few floors off the ground. Sort of a cool place. We site at table 95, and are served reasonably well by Duane. (The bill with tip hit $114.45, which isn't bad for four people in an area that includes the tourist markup.)
3:05pm - We leave Encounter and return to the terminal. Tubby is checked with a wand, but there is no more pawing through my things.
3:12pm - We check the boards, and find we're to proceed to gate 74A for the flight, which is now 6:25pm. We stake out seats, and begin a rotation of potty and wandering shifts. Julia purchases playing cards; she, Robert and Bill play cards. Tubby is in search for an Icee, but had to settle for a second-rate milkshake from a third-rate McDonalds in the terminal (after checking the two other branches of our immediate portion of the building.)
6:4pm - Boarding begins. Finally.
7:00pm - We're all aboard, and moving toward a departure. The boy and I tune into Channel 9, where you can hear air traffic control dispatching all the planes. Sort of neat in a dorky sort of way. The movie was "Changing Lanes". I won't accuse it of being a great film, but it didn't suck my will to live, either. We managed to squeeze the airline for one can of regular Pepsi, a snack (left the sandwich on whole wheat, enjoyed the peppermint candy and pudding that bore the note "Refrigerate If At Home." That's a safe bet.
10:25am - We touch-down at the airport in New Orleans (really Kenner). Local temperature - 77°F.
12:25am - It's really the same entry, but we're now on Central Daylight Time, no longer Pacific Time. It's +2 hours (yes, I know you figured there would be no math involved here).
12:35am - By virtue of our luggage arriving on the flight we were supposed to be aboard, there was no waiting at the little conveyor belt thing for our stuff. After the bald one fumbled for his ID (neglecting to save that oh-so-important luggage claim tag), we were on the curb and the five of us were loading ourselves into Samuel's cab. (I couldn't read the last name on his cab driver ID tag, but it did expire on 12 December 2002, which made me feel a bit better... at least he was legit.
12:50am - We arrive at the New Orleans Marriott. Bill and Robert check in successfully, and Julia is also a success. The Tubby One, however, was not expected as a guest... his reservation showed cancelled. Never mind that the confirmation number was correct, or that our roommate was upstairs on the 34th floor, sleeping peacefully. Robert, from New York City (I love nametags) assigned us to room 1626 for the time being, since it was a valid reservation number, and I was obviously here. He's a clever one, but then again, I'd expect nothing less from a resident of the Empire State.
12:58am - After the boy unsuccessfully attempts to get into the wrong room (1624, 1626, whatever, right?), we navigate the additional twelve feet to the correct room, and go inside. We've arrived. I felt an odd need to put on beads. And the boy seemed similarly pleased, because of the proximity to the Pepsi machine. Of course, Julia, up on the 30th floor, is quite aflutter about us having a lack of a roommate, but I'm sure that will be corrected forthwith.
1:35am - Admitting that this isn't the most interesting update of my overall travels, but it's a start, and the room (currently) overlooks the river. Yea!