It has been a long day.
We awoke at 5:30am in an aiport hotel. The day before was surprisingly laid back, despite the delay with the person shipping our car and a sudden, horrible realization that, yes, Hobbes’ official travel ceritificate had been packed. (Luckily, I went back to the vet before closing time and got a new one…(Which sucks because they didn’t end up even asking us for it). I admit I was really excited…I mean, this is something I’ve wanted for a really long time, to move back to Seattle.
When we arrived at the airport, we had a total of six bags plus a cat in a carrier. We looked like one of THOSE passengers, all stressed out with several backpacks slung over our shoulders and two rolling suitcases. Hobbes had been remarkably good, so good in fact that we had let her out of her carrier on our trip from Ft. Collins to Denver and she had done fairly well…she prefers looking out the window when riding in cars and the night before was no exeption. But now she was back in her carrier and SCARED stiff. Not a peep or a meow came from her, she was petrified with fear.
We showed up two hours early for our United flight…and when we checked our bags in Josh asked for an exit row seat and she said “Are you a miles plus member?” And I jumped in and said, “NO, he’s just TALL.” And she said, “I can’t give you one, you have to be a miles plus member.” And Josh said, “Since when?” Because, c’mon, we have a cat in a carrier and Josh is almost 6′6, usually ticket people recognize that we may actually need the extra foot room. And the woman brushed us off and said, “Since always, but it’s only recently been enforced.” And we were aghast, like, are you serious? You have exit row seats but you’re not going to give us one? Fine whatever. It pissed us off so bad.
When we showed up at the baggage scan, I was informed that I had to remove Hobbes from the carrier. WHAT? Omigod, it took forever just to get her into the carrier and now I need to take her out? The security guy said something like, “What? You didn’t tranquilize her?” And i responded tersely, “What? YOU wannatry and shove a pill down her throat?” Or something equally frustrated. So, I scooped Hobbes out and carried her through with me to the Other Side, and she was shaking the whole time…seriously, shaking and breaking my heart. Of course Josh got pulled aside for the adavanced screening, and when he asked if he could help me get Hobbes back into her cage, he was denied. Luckily all three of us made it out alive.
When we arrived at our gate we shared a muffin for breakfast and I drank a double cappuccino. Every now and than Hobbes would fire off a meow, like, “Hey, guys, what the hell?” Josh asked the woman at the gate about the exit seats and she said, “Oh, we sell them now at a higher rate…and I can’t give them to you anyway beause you’re not a Miles Plus member…” So we walked away and figured the exit rows would be filled with balding, white, old business men who happen to be Miles Plus members.
When we squeezed onto the plane we realized several things: 1) There were a total of TWELVE exit row seats on this plane, and 2) SIX SEATS WERE OPEN. We knew this because we were conveniently seated BEHIND the exit row. I can’t describe how furious I was…ok, I understand, be the goddam classist bastards that America is known for, but we were SQUEEZED in and it’s not like the elite had filled up the seats, they were open! So we take off, and right when we reach cruising altitude, the Miles Plus Business Man in front of Josh kicks back his seat forcing Josh to bend his knees up to his chin. Something snapped, and I woke the sleeping teenager next to me (who was part of a large crew of Band Kids), saying, “Look, kid, you’re gonna have to get up so we can yoink those exit row seats” and Josh and I hauled Hobbes out from under the seat and charged one of the exit rows. You have to imagine that there’s this laid out business man, reading his paper and relaxing in his exit row seat, with two empty seats next to him, and all of a sudden he’s accosted by a delerious woman holding a cat in a cage and a tall sheepish gentleman at her side. “HI, we have a cat and my husband is really tall and we need to sit in the exit row.” BAM, the business guy barely pulled his jacket off the empty seat next to him before our butts were firmly planted and Hobbes was placed in front of our roomy seats. Despite the hassle, it was worth it. The trip went well, now that we had room to move around and our cat wasn’t smooshed up against someone’s ankles. And Hobbes continued to do remarkably well, although there was one freak out moment where she started shaking her cage back and forth and scratching on the inside…but other than that she did well.
We finally landed, and it was a glorious day…Hurrah! And than the airline lost one of our suitcases. It was the one with dress shirts, medications, and toiletries in it. A handful of things that we really needed…and of course, I immediately started to grieve for my lost suitcase; Like, there it goes, we’re never seeing it again, I can’t believe my goddam 25 dollar moisterizer was in there, and my earplugs–CRAP, I really need my earplugs! Mind you we hadn’t eaten in several hours and it was starting to take its toll. We left without the bag, picked up this ridiculous SUV that Josh thought we needed and it turned out it was way crappy and hard to drive and what do you need an SUV in the city for? So we went and got lunch and than traded it in for something else, and that something else turned out to be too short for Josh–he couldn’t even see the stoplights without hunching down, so we brought it back again and traded it out for something full-size. And than we tried to drive around and look for places but I realized that I was losing my mind…and now I’m sitting here barely typing, but exhilerated, and overwhelmed, and dear GOD I hope we find a cool place to live.