The following is a true story. It has been told the way it actually happened.
Please note: The following was written by Jeff.
This is not intended to sound negative, or take away from my overall experience which was simply amazing. I merely wanted to share my story of the adventure we endured attempting to enjoy our long awaited honeymoon. Besides, you couldn't even make this stuff up. As some of you may know, Annie and I got married on June 16th, and planned a honeymoon to Jamaica. From here, our story begins…
June 17th – One day wed and anticipating our honeymoon in a tropical location.
Of course, neither of us had ever been anywhere exotic. We had our passports, we were packed, we were ready. Following a storybook, dream-like, picture perfect wedding, we just knew Jamaica would be the same. After saying goodbye to all of our families, we were off. Our great friend Sarah agreed to take us to Reno, drop us off, and come pick us up when we returned on Saturday. This was a tremendous help to us because we didn't want to have to pay for airport parking. Our flight was scheduled for 7:56 p.m. and we arrived in Reno around 4:30. We had plenty of time to grab a few last minute items at Wal-Mart, and a bite to eat at the Olive Garden before we had to be at the airport. We arrived at the airport around 6:45 and got checked in. Everything was going perfect. Our flight was slightly delayed, so by the time we boarded and pushed away from the gate, it was close to 8:30. I wasn't worried however, because the flight to LAX only takes about an hour and fifteen minutes, and we didn't have to catch Air Jamaica till 10:47.
Now this is where the story starts getting interesting. We board the Delta plane, and I immediately notice this is not like any plane I've flown before. On my right, there is a row of single seats. On my left, there is a row of double seats. I become a little concerned because I think I've seen a plane much like this in the Buddy Holly movie. No problem though, as long as we make it to LAX. Finally the plane takes off and we start taxiing to the runway. I didn't notice anything unusual until after about 5 minutes we were still taxiing. I looked over to Annie and told her "we're just gonna drive there". Still in good spirits, we had a little laugh over it. Finally after what seemed like forever, we were in the air. I looked down at my watch and noticed it was 8:45. The flight went well, and the pilot was able to shave off a little bit of time in the air (or so he said). When we landed in LAX it was about 5 minutes till 10:00. I'm a little concerned that we will be cutting it close having never flown internationally and not knowing what to expect. The good thing is that our bags will be transferred, so we won't have to check any luggage. As soon as we land the pilot comes on the speakers and informs us that the gates are all full, therefore we must taxi and park in the hangar, then take a bus over to the delta terminal. Now I'm worried. We taxi for a long time again, and by the time we come to a stop, it is 10:15. Our next flight leaves in about 30 minutes. When we finally come to a stop, the pilot again comes on the speakers and tells us that there are two other planes in the same situation as us, so as soon as they get them unloaded and taken to the terminal, they will offload us. There is nothing we can do but sit there at this point. Finally it comes our turn to unload, and get on the bus. It's about 25 after 10 by now, and we are very worried. Everyone loads up on the bus, and we take the ride over to the terminal. Now, I must say, I had no idea where we were supposed to go, but we were running anyways. By a stroke of luck, we took a correct turn and ended up in front of the Air Jamaica desk. It is now 35 after 10, and our plane leaves in 10 minutes. I quickly found a Delta representative and asked him where we check in for Air Jamaica.
This…guy…ugh. He looks at me, and says I'm sorry, they closed the desk for check in, the plane is about to leave. He gives me a sort of chuckle and turns around. I say "wait no, you don't understand, our plane was delayed coming in from Reno, we just need to get on that plane, where do we go?" He states, "I'm sorry, there is nothing I can do, there is no one there to check you in". I'm doing everything I can not to punch this guy square in the nose at this point. I say "Please, we're on our way to Jamaica, it's our honeymoon, is there anyone you can call and let us go catch the plane?" He says no. I say "when does the next flight go out then, we'll catch that one." He tells me "It looks like you're going to have to wait till tomorrow. They only leave once each day at 10:47 p.m." He then turns around and prances off into the crowd.
Now…we have pre-paid for our 5 days at this resort. Now this joker is telling me that I'm going to miss an entire day. I look over at Annie, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to break down right there. To tell the honest truth, so was I.
We just stood there at the empty check in desk trying to comprehend what just happened. We just missed a day of our honeymoon. We, of course, didn't purchase any type of trip insurance. The first thing I did was call up Expedia to see what my options were. I was put on hold, and my cell phone only had one bar left. I remained on hold until the inevitable happened…my phone died. We continued to stand there and I just stared at my watch. 10:50 p.m. That's when it hit me that we were stuck in L.A.
After just standing there for a while, the Delta representative found his way back over to me and informed me that someone would be over shortly to talk to us. I can't exactly remember what I said to him, but I'm sure it was something that would have gotten me scolded by my mother. Soon enough, a gentleman by the name of Terrance greeted us and listened to our story of what happened. I must say, he was a very courteous man, and seemed genuinely sympathetic to our problem. By the way, he happened to work for Delta, which surprised me since he was so helpful. He told us they would be able to provide us with a hotel room for the evening, as well as meal vouchers, and a flight out on the next available plane to Jamaica. Unfortunately this still leaves us a day short on our vacation. Whatever. I'm tired, cranky and starting to smell like a gym sock. Terrance directs us to the Delta Direct line where we are able to walk right up to a Delta rep. to get us a hotel voucher. It's sometime around 11:30 by this point.
This particular Delta rep. (I'm not sure of her name) was a little less helpful or sympathetic, however still fairly nice. Sometime in the middle of getting our hotel booked for the night it dawned on us. Our luggage… We checked it in Reno and it was supposed to transfer to Montego Bay Jamaica. I just knew that the luggage was somewhere over Texas now and we would be staying the night in Los Angeles without any fresh clothes. Can this get any worse? After receiving a voucher for a night in the Microtel Hotel and four $7.00 "meal" vouchers, Terrance comes back over to find us. He informs us that he found a flight out on Delta to Atlanta at 6:15 a.m. where we could catch a flight to Montego Bay and be there by around 6:00 p.m. This seemed much better than waiting till 10:47 p.m. so we took it. I can't say enough about Terrance for taking it upon himself to research this and find us a way there quicker. We would arrive on the same day we were scheduled to arrive, except instead of getting there a little after 6:00 a.m. we would get there around 6:00 p.m. We thanked him so much for this and collected our vouchers. The lady told us we would be able to catch the shuttle outside baggage claim. Great, now we're getting somewhere. We still don't have any luggage, so we asked if there was a way to find out if our bags made it on the plane or not. She directed us to the luggage office, so away we went.
We found our way down to the luggage office and was greeted by a very gruff, very apathetic Delta baggage Nazi. We told her our story, and she just looked at me as if I was speaking Japanese. I attempted again to explain why I was down there "bothering" her. She then reluctantly picked up the phone and made a call. I swear, I've seen this lady on the Maury Povich show doing one of those "my baby daddy" episodes. She just had that stereotypical L.A. attitude letting loose of a few special sounds best described like this: "pffffssshhh" While on the phone, a couple of the legible words I was able to catch her say to the man on the other end of the line were "purple bag?". I immediately said "YES, PURPLE, THAT'S MINE"
I'm going to stop here and say God bless Annie for registering for purple luggage, and God bless whoever supplied us with it. Of course I didn't care what color we got, and purple is her favorite color. I did have to give her a hard time when we first got it, but I couldn't be more happy with her choice.
Anyways, so they say they found a purple bag, and it would be sliding down that baggage ramp right now. I went to collect it, and only found that they had one. After I collected the bag, I went back to the office to tell the lady I still needed my other one. Again I endured a few more interesting noises from the "baby daddy lady" before she had her very sweet assistant look in the back. The lady promptly returned with a smile on her face and a purple bag in her hand. "Jeffrey Ho-nee-uh?" she asked? I said "Yes, Honea, that's mine. Thank you!" At least she seemed excited for me. I can't be certain but I thought I caught "baby daddy lady" roll her eyes and go back to whatever it is she was doing before I so rudely interrupted her.
Boy-oh-boy golly gee wiz this night sure is looking up! Now we just need to go catch our shuttle, get in the hotel and hopefully get a few hours of sleep. Remember, our flight leaves at 6:15, and by this time it's around 12:00. Off into the putrid L.A. night we venture to find the "Microtel Hotel" shuttle.
As we exit the baggage claim doors and look for the sign that tells us where to stand for our shuttle, I notice a flight must have just come in because it looks like an L.A. freeway just outside the door. There are cars, shuttles, taxis and limos zipping through the narrow corridor. I notice that the spot we are supposed to stand is across this road and on a concrete island. After standing next to a designated painted crosswalk for a minute or two and not having ANYONE even pretend to slow down, I take a daring step off the curb. On this road that is MAYBE 20 ft. wide, there are three lanes. I don't think there are supposed to be, but the drivers are using up every inch of roadway out there. I notice the lane closest to me, and the middle one stop as if to let me cross. I take this opportunity to start across. I do so with some haste, and notice almost too late that a taxi in the third lane is coming QUICK. I stop in my tracks and let him skid to a stop. The guy lays on his horn and continues to beep me a tune the whole time I'm crossing with my purple luggage. All I could do was give him a little wave and a sheepish smile like "my bad".
We reach the concrete island and stand among a host of others waiting for their shuttle. I keep looking and waiting, waiting and looking. "Microtel Hotel" I keep saying to Annie "stay on the lookout" I'm not sure how often shuttles come by for the hotels, but I DID notice a few hotels come by 2 or 3 times. After standing there for over 20 minutes, and re-acquiring that sinking feeling deep in my gut, I opted for us to just take a cab there. It couldn't be that far, and couldn't cost that much. Again we brave the freeway and hail a cab. As the cab driver is putting our purple luggage in the car, he asks where we're going. I tell him "Microtel Hotel". The foreign cabbie just looks at me. I show him our voucher where the lady was nice enough to highlight the words "Microtel Hotel". The cabbie then asks me the address. Of course I don't know the address, so I tell him this is all they gave me. At this point he reaches in and takes our purple luggage back out of the trunk and tells me I need to find an address. I just look at Annie with disbelief. She shakes her head and we re-enter the baggage claim area dejected.
I decide I'm going to go and look up the hotel at the pay phone while Annie uses the restroom. On my way over to the phones, I notice a supervisor looking lady I recognized from our earlier episode upstairs at the ticket counter. I briefly apprise her of the situation, and how I now need an address for the hotel I was comp'd because the cabbie has never heard of it. She tells me to go into the baggage claim office and ask the lady there to find out for me. The baggage claim office she is referring to happens to be manned by "baby daddy lady", remember? I politely thank her, and continue on to the phone books. She notices this and takes it upon herself to go into the baggage claim office for me. Just as I am locating it in the phone book she returns with a piece of paper and the address on it. I collect Annie and again we head outside to hail a cab. We find a cab, we give him the piece of paper, he stows our purple luggage, and away we go. Finally! It's creeping on 1:00 a.m. but we'll at least get a nice shower and a couple hours of sleep. On the way there, the cabbie tells us it will be $20.00 for the ride (!!!). We take the half mile journey into the quaint little town of Inglewood. Now…I don't know much about L.A., but I'm pretty sure I've heard Dr. Dre and/or Snoop Doggy Dogg rapping about Inglewood a time or two, which didn't exactly leave me feeling warm and fuzzy.
We arrive at the Microtel Inn and Suites and pay the cabbie. We collect our purple luggage and head in to the registration desk. Upon approaching the front door, I notice a young man in what I assume to be a bullet proof plexi-glass cage, eyeballing me with suspicion. Who knows, maybe it was my Bermuda shorts, flip flops and purple luggage, or the fact that it was 1:00 a.m. in Inglewood, and this pale white guy is wandering up to his door. Either way he hesitates…looks at me one last time, then pops the door open.
I walk up to the registration desk and encounter the same gentleman that let me in. I present him with the voucher for our stay and joke that Delta would like me to stay in the grandest suite available for my troubles. The man looks at the voucher, then tells me "Sorry, we don't have any vacancy" I laugh. I then say that Delta called a little while ago and booked a room for me since we missed our flight. The guy says "yeah, I know, Delta booked up all of our rooms by 8:00. They knew we had no vacancy, I don't know why they told you we did". I was just beside myself. I ask them if they happen to have a shuttle that could take us back to the airport so we could get this straightened out. He turns around and picks up the phone, dials a number and a second or two later a cell phone starts ringing in his office. The man takes the phone away from his ear, looks down at the cell phone…and then hangs up. The cell phone stops ringing. The man turns back to me and says "nope, no shuttle driver tonight". I look around to make sure I'm not on some hidden camera prank show. I thank the man and ask to use the lobby phone. He lets me do so, and I call another cab to come pick us up. We wait another 15 minutes or so for the cab to arrive, load up our purple luggage and make the trip back to LAX.
We approach the now all too familiar looking Delta terminal, and direct the cabbie to where we need to go. We exit the cab, pay the man another $20.00, collect our purple luggage and head back inside the baggage claim doors one more time. Once inside, we quickly find our way back to the Delta desk to find out what we do next. Of course when we make our way back to the desk, no one we dealt with earlier was there…wait, I take that back. The guy that chuckled at me when we first missed our flight was there prancing around as usual. I approached him to find out who we speak to about getting our room situation straightened out and he started to tell me everyone was gone for the evening and I would have to come back later. I think he saw my head turn three different shades of red, because he quickly glanced around and just as I was about to let him have it, he told me to go see the supervisor at the very end of the counter. Bruno...Bernard...something like that. We walked down to this supervisor, and explained our situation. He quickly looks at my voucher, says "there must be a mistake, I'm going to call them". I'm thinking that he better not send me back down there knowing there isn't a shuttle running and make me try to check in to that same hotel. After he calls the motel, argues with the guy in the bullet proof glass cage and hangs up, he calls another hotel to make our reservation. This time he prints out another voucher and hands it to me. "Ramada Plaza" this one said. Ok, I thought. I've actually heard of a Ramada. We ask him what time we need to be here to get checked in. He notifies us that as long as we are here 1 hour before our flight takes off, we will be just fine. He then showed us where we need to go when we arrive, and how to use the self check-in kiosk. Things are looking up. We ensure that there will be a shuttle running for this one before we head back down to baggage claim. We exit baggage claim with our purple luggage one last time, brave the LAX freeway one last time, and stand there on the concrete island waiting for our shuttle one last time. In about 5 minutes the shuttle arrived and we are once again off.
We arrive at the Ramada Plaza Inn and quickly get checked in. About this time I glance down at my watch and slowly start doing the math. It's 2:30 a.m. Our flight leaves at 6:15. We have to be there an hour early, so that's 5:15. The shuttle only runs every half hour on the hour and half hour. That means we have to catch the shuttle at 5:00. I smell like a gym sock (remember?) so I need a shower. The problem is, I'm not sure if I need to contact Couples to let them know we will be 12 hours late, and to have someone there to pick us up at the air port. Still work to be done. We go on up to our room and each take a shower. Now that I feel better, I need to find out how to contact Couples. I go downstairs and find out if they have a business center to allow me to look up the Couples website. They do not. The woman behind the counter is nice enough to go in her back office and look up the information for me, which I greatly appreciated. The only problem, is that the sheets she printed off for me did not have the phone number on it. Of course I didn't realize this until I got back to the room. Oh well, I thought. I'll just call Expedia and have them look it up for me. I take my phone out of my pocket, retrieve my phone charger and go to plug it in. "You have GOT to be kidding me" I say. The charger I have grabbed was for a phone neither of us own any more. Ok, I'll just use the in-room phone. I contact Expedia, and the very nice lady is able to get me the phone number. I call Couples and they tell me "No Problem Mon". So we're all set. I just need to…it's 3:15??? I just need to get about an hour and a half sleep. We set the alarm for 4:45 and drift away for a short power nap. Something shook me awake. I open my eyes and notice Annie is still fast asleep. I look up at the clock. It hasn't gone off yet…wait, it says 4:47. I don't know how or why I woke up, but I'm certainly glad I did. I set the alarm correctly, for 4:45 a.m. The thing that I didn't notice is that the clock was set on p.m. Geez. We spring out of bed, collect our toiletries and pack them away. We grab our dirty clothes and everything else we had and head on out to the lobby. We notice quite a few people starting to gather, so we decide to go wait by the curb as to ensure we will get a seat. I wouldn't notice until the night we arrive in Jamaica, but in our rush to get to the lobby on time, I left my cell phone in the room. I will never see it again.
Our long awaited Jamaican cocktail on our first night.
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