Okay, yes, I am a blonde. (Yes, with an “e”. Blonde is a girl, blond is a boy. I like the specificity of it. Check www.dictionary.com if you doubt me.) However, I hate my idiocy being blamed on my hair color. The blonde jokes are cute, sometimes funny, but when you have a child whose hair color exactly matches yours and she adamantly rejects any thought of being blonde, it grows old. I am stupid on my own, okay? It’s not my hair.
So, for example: I bought my plane tickets at Expedia.com. We arrive at the airport an hour and a half early. We stand in line at American Airlines because that’s what the itinerary says. We go through the line, try to check in and they say, “Go to Alaska Airlines. That’s where you should be.” Now, picture the irony since we are supposed to go to Texas.
We stand in line at Alaska Airlines and make it through and they say, “Oh, not this one. Go down [a block] and be in that line.”
Okay, good thing I have my scooter, but I feel bad for my poor hubby. He had to push the wheelchair with three pieces of luggage loaded on it. (Yes, it was a trick, but really neat how well it worked.)
So we stand in line and go through it and they say, “Oh, you have a scooter.” Like I didn’t mark handicapped on the plane form when I bought the ticket? Geez. So we went to Customer Service. The shortest line of all.
We stood there for 45 minutes and missed our flight.
We hadn’t even gotten to Security yet.
After getting through Customer Service, Security was a breeze. There are some advantages to being in a wheelchair, (skipping long lines) as long as you don’t mind the much more thorough, although respectful, search. And having every single bag looked through.
So, we go through and we are free! We loaded on to the plane easily, though it turned out to be a tiny one. There are times when I really wonder if heavy people, like me, should register their weight. Do you have any idea how many times I was asked how much my scooter weighed? And all I could think was, “Not as much as I do.”
Well, it all worked out well. We arrived in Dallas early. All we had to do was get our luggage, call the shuttle I’d already paid for on Expedia, and go to the motel I’d reserved for the night.
If only I’d printed the Expedia vouchers. I took my now-broken scooter (the handle on the lever that makes the steering column go forward or backward, came off. Only my husband can adjust it now. Yes, we’ll get it fixed and it was registered with the airline right away.)
It turns out, not printing the vouchers is a really bad thing. It took four hours to find somewhere we could print them. Finally, they just had to fax them. Then we get on the shuttle and learn how bad a shuttle through Expedia is. The Shuttle Bus is normally $17/person/trip. Expedia charged $20. And out of that, they only give the shuttle $13.
Expedia made $7/person for an online buy that took them virtually no effort.
So, two lessons: Expedia is a rip-off and PRINT ANY VOUCHERS.
Price: 4 more hours at the airport and $150 on my cell phone. (It was after 9 pm Texas time!)
Verdict: Ridiculous and largely my fault.