Thursday, November 1, 2012

Just Waitin' on a Ride

So, I'm in Florida. Our daughter April is getting married, so I am being forced to sit on the beach for five days. I'm always willing to sacrifice for our children.

The trip started off well. We left from the San Francisco airport at 6 A.M., and our flight was smooth and uneventful. We were seated in the exit row, so we had lots of leg room. Our first flight actually landed early, so we had enough time to go from Terminal C to Terminal B and get a light lunch before our connecting flight boarded. 

And that's when it all fell apart.

I got a text from April. They were driving to Florida from Atlanta and were supposed to pick us up at the airport. Instead:
Hey there is no way we're gonna be there at 2:45. We have had so many issues this morning...Just now leaving
Well, that's a change in plans, but I can roll with it:
Should we wait or go rent a car?
 And here's where it gets interesting:
Mom and Bruce can come get you if you want.
Mom and Bruce, of course, would be The Hillbilly's ex-wife, Teresa, and her husband. I asked The Hillbilly if he would rather just rent a car. He said there was no point in spending the extra money. Well, okie doke.
If they don't mind, we'll ride with them.
 Now this next part I found a little....odd.
Well they would rather not come back from Seaside to pick you up, but they'll be ok. We really don't need extra car. Waste of money. Maybe y'all can just give them a little gas $.
Well, of course we'd give them gas money, but what about that part where they'd rather not come?
Okay, but are they pitching a fit?
Nah. It will be good bonding time. Ha ha.
 Oh, great. The bride-to-be chooses now to become a comedian. Of course, I let her know I'm fine with these arrangements:
Oh, just can't wait to "bond."
So that's thing number one. A change in plans that is going to lead to "bonding" with  the ex. Yay.

All that was before we left Houston.

Now we've landed in Florida.  It is 2:52. Remember that time. Here comes thing number two:
It is Fort Walton, right?
They're on the way.
At this point, April sends me her mom's number so we can coordinate the meet up.  And Teresa asks:
What was the name of the airport?
I find a sign so I can be exact.
Northwest Florida Regional airport. Just got our luggage. We'll wait at curb right outside baggage claim.
And here's the first sign of thing #2:
Is that also called Destin Ft. Walton Beach airport?
Sure, why not? I mean, it makes sense to me:
I think it is. How far away are you?
3.6 miles
Ok. Beautiful day!
And it was a beautiful day! The sun was shining, and a cool breeze was blowing as we stood around outside the airport waiting for our ride. In a few minutes we get word that they have arrived at the airport, and I let them know we're waiting right out front.
Then we may not be at the right airport because we don't see you. We need an address if you can ask.
1701 North Hwy 85.
In Ft. Walton or Destin? 
My ticket says Fort Walton.
And it does. No mention of any other place. Fifteen minutes later we hear from Teresa again.
We're not finding it and our gps is not getting us there.
So I send her the phone number of the airport so she can call for directions. And I find a different address on  a different web site:
Try State Road 85 North on your gps.
We're 30-40 minutes away then.
Whaaaat?? How did they get themselves that far away?  Well, okay. We'll wait. I mean, what else are we going to do?

Remember when we landed at 2:52? It's now 4:00. I ask The Hillbilly, "When we pay them for gas, do we have to pay for them getting themselves lost?"

The Hillbilly laughs and says, "This is probably getting frustrating for them."

Oh, good. The bonding experience is looking soooo much better.

At 4:18:
I think we've finally found it.
Truthfully, it wasn't their fault that they got lost, and I don't think it was my fault either. Here's the problem:

At location #1 is the Destin-Fort Walton Beach Airport. We, of course, were at location #3, Northwest Florida Regional Airport. But my tickets say Fort Walton Beach!

Anyway, eventually they found us. We got everything loaded into the car and had a very pleasant one-hour ride to the place where we were all staying.

But I wouldn't call it bonding.

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UPDATE: Any references to ex-spouses are exaggerated for comedic effect. We all got along fabulously and enjoyed one another's company.

UPDATE: Find out more about our adventures at The Airport of Doom.