#153 - february flight

Keeping in line with my 2010 goals, I went on my second trip of the year to Colorado. I hadn't seen my sister's family since, a year ago, Christmas; plus, hadn't seen new Norah yet. My friends Adrienne and Corrine were kind enough to let me fly on a buddy pass, making the flight very affordable. Catching my plane from Boise to Salt Lake, and then Salt Lake to Montrose was a breeze. Each time, they called my name and I was allowed onto the plane. I spend Thursday - Sunday with my family; playing, going out to lunch, attending my sister's book club [The Book Thief], reading stories, piggy back rides, late night movies, and delicious meals.

Flying back Sunday, though, was a bit of a waiting game. I got to the tiny baby Montrose airport and noticed a plane was loading. I asked the desk if this was my flight (no flight read-out screens). She said it was for Denver and my flight was not for some time and to take a seat. There were no loud-speaker announcements, so I tried to sit close to the counter. I delved deep into my book while the other flight loaded. After about 10 minutes (i

f that), I hear someone yell, "Vanessa Park, your plane is leaving." I jumped up, handed over my seat request with a shocked look on my face. Apparently in 5 minutes, Denver had loaded, closed, taken off; and Salt Lake had been announced, boarded and was moments from leaving the strip. Guess I delved deeper in my book than I thought...

Once to Salt Lake, plane after plane was over booked. Requests were made for people to volunteer to step off each of the planes, so a second-list-little-stand-by-girl was a low priority. 3:00 flight - full. 5:00 flight - full. 8:00 flight - full. My friends who offered the ticket had, granted, warned me a Sunday evening flight from Salt Lake was a long shot, but I could try. They showed me the way to the VIP "Crown Room: Fancy dressed men and women can sit in a quiet, luxurious room with free drinks and food, on cumpfy couches and watch big screen televisions. Although it was a long day, it was nice to sit in a quieter place, away from the insanity that was the SLC Sunday afternoon, and watch the Olympics, or read my book.

Finally, the 9:45 flight rolled around and my name was called. I've never been so happy to hear my name before, "Park, Vanessa... Please come to the front terminal for your seat assignment". GLORIOUS! Seat 33 F. My wonder-seat home.