The Sedona

I promised I would tell you about our return home, and so here it is....

We parked in the long term lot when we flew out of the airport.  Contrary to the information posted on all of the signs, everywhere you look in parking lots that tell you to take your parking ticket with you, I usually leave my parking tickets under the visor.  I always know where they are, and I can always find them.

So, we pull into the long term lot at the airport, and I take the ticket and put it under the visor on the driver's side.

My husband immediately pulls it back out, points to the signs posted everywhere that tell you not to leave your ticket in the car and then tells me "I'll keep track of it."

Fine by me.

So, we go to Seattle, have a great time, and fly back home.  Not once do I think about getting the car back out of the long term lot.  None.  Nada.  Never even thought to ask where the ticket was located.

Once we landed back home, the trek to our car became a trek of epic proportions... the kind of saga that Homer would write in Latin and title "The Odyssey", or maybe, since we drive a Kia, it would be more appropriately entitled "The Sedona".

Once we fought our way through the crowds and down to the baggage claim area, we waited.  And waited.  And waited.  This was Friday night, around 7:00, and we had been on an airplane for over six hours and across three time zones at this point.

Another plane full of passengers began milling around baggage claim, and then another.

We begin to hear an insistent buzzing sound coming up through the chute where our luggage is supposed to ascend into our eagerly awaiting hands.. and the buzzing kept going.

More passengers from yet another flight stumbled into the baggage claim area and began to look stupidly around.

Finally, a disembodied voice announced: "Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize.  That buzzing sound you hear is an equipment malfunction.  The conveyor belts are not working, and we are unable to deliver your luggage at this time.  Thank you for your patience while we fix this situation.

A large, collective groan arose from the crowd surrounding the baggage claim area, but there was nothing that we could do.  We were stuck until our luggage appeared.  Trapped like rats, as it were.

Husband decided he was going to try and catch the shuttle back to the long term lot to get our car, and then he would bring it back to the airport to pick up us, and our luggage, and save us the crush on the shuttles.

He went to wait in the shuttle line, but every shuttle coming through was so packed full of people, they weren't able to take on any more passengers.

Finally, the conveyor belts started working, and the luggage magically began appearing through the luggage chutes, and people were beyond happy.

The kids and I took the luggage out to the curb, and arrived just as an empty shuttle arrived.  Husband helped us load our baggage in, and then we sat down, and more people kept crowding on, and more people, and more people.  Remember how we had close to six airplanes full of people waiting for their luggage?  Well now, they all wanted to get to their cars and go home.

More and more people shoved themselves onto the bus.  We honestly looked like we were packed in a New York subway car during rush hour.  The killer was the woman who had all of her luggage in one of those wheeled grocery carts.  She got on last, shoved her cart in front of her, and refused to move.

She refused to move when more people wanted to get on, and she refused to move when people wanted to get off. 

When we finally arrived at our stop, we were in the back of the shuttle.  I literally had to climb over the seats around her to get off the bus, because she refused to move for anyone. 

By this point, it is well after 9 at night.  We are all cranky and grumpy, and we wanted to get home.  We were moving middle child into his dorm room the very next morning - not even 12 hours later.

We found the van, loaded it, and headed to the attendants booth to pay to get out.

And this is when the fun began.

Remember, I usually keep the tickets under the visor on the driver's side.  The attendant asked for our ticket, and my husband reached into the visor, but it wasn't there.  He looked at me and said "What did you do with it?"

"You took it,"  I said.  "Remember, you said you didn't want it sitting here in the car while we were gone."

He searched his wallet.  I searched my wallet.  We searched all the hidey holes.  The attendant told us we were blocking traffic and told us to back out and find our ticket.

We searched the glove compartment.  We searched the floor.  I searched my purse.  Husband searched his backpack.

Finally, he pulled out his suitcase.  Searching by the light from my phone, he finally found the parking ticket- buried deep within an interior pocket on the inside of his suitcase.

10:03, we pulled up to the attendant's booth and paid.  We arrived at our front door right at 11:00.  Starved, we hit up the pizza I had put in the freezer before we left "just in case" we were starved when we walked in the door.

Ugh.. what a day.

From now on, I am leaving the parking tickets for my car under the visor on the driver's side of my car.  Someone could always steal it, but at least I won't be searching for it in the dark, by the light of my phone, in a rain-soaked parking lot.