After a get-together like that, the plane ride home is bound to be an anticlimax:
Quick return
The day started with our bill slipped under the door. The bill contained two surprises: first, the rate was $10 higher than we had booked, and second, there were no phone charges at all. I decided to give the hotel management a break and only mentioned the first problem when I called down. They said they would adjust it. When we checked out the clerk was unsure how to make the adjustment, but the supervisor came over and took care of it. Soon we were in the car in search of breakfast.
Neverlost has a great feature called “nearest.” It’s best used for gas stations but can also, with a modicum of wisdom, be used for restaurants. We booted up Lucy in the parking lot of the Sheraton and scrolled through the list of hotel restaurants until we came to “Shelly Deli.” We thought that sounded fine, so we headed for it only to discover that it was the name of the food mart in a Chevron station. We quickly reprimanded Lucy, who took it like a champ, and selected Ruby Tuesday as an alternative destination. We went there, next door to a Barnes and Noble, where people used to buy books before Amazon.com, and ordered a couple of decent blue-cheese burgers, medium.
We returned the Ford to Hertz. The quick-return agent had never heard of using a coupon, so we had to go into the office and talked to the same agent who helped us exchange our car the day before. She went hog-wild and deducted everything imaginable, including one day’s Neverlost because I had told her the GPS was a bit off. We ended up saving almost $20 over the quoted rate.
We checked in after a short wait at the First Class/Premier line. There is no Red Carpet Club in Tampa, so we headed directly for gate D48 just as my United Flight Paging came over my cell phone to tell me the flight was leaving on time from gate 48 (no D). There are still a few bugs in the system. The flight was boarding as we arrived, so we took seats 1A and B on flight 1450 to Washington/Dulles, a Boeing 727 and got a couple cups of water before takeoff. In-flight service began with drinks and Party Mix. The snack was a choice of Tuscan Wrap with “prociutto ham” and grilled-chicken Caesar salad. We both passed, hanging the blame on Ruby Tuesday’s. Out of eight FC seats, there were four Premier Executives, one 1K (me), on 1K million miler, one Lufthansa Gold, and one regular mileage plus member. The crew once again failed to close the curtain between classes, resulting in traffic through the FC cabin to use the forward lavatory.
We landed on time at IAD, where there was still plenty of snow on the ground. The crew failed to mete out the hung-up coats before landing, which was symmetrical with their failure to offer to hang them up before take-off. We had about a half-hour to spend in the Red Carpet Club, so we picked the one at C17, next door to our flight at C19. We found the only two free workstations in the crowded club, one right next to a hot blonde in a silver crushed velvet dress who turned out to be none other than…Essxjay! She had been struggling with her modem settings, a favorite pastime for all in RCCs, and I was fortunate to be able to dispense a few words of advice to help her connect. The three of us connected for 20 minutes or so—to the Internet, not to each other—and soon we were off to our respective flights.
We boarded the 757 that was to be flight 219 to Seattle and had no sooner turned left than who should we see but our old friends, the redhead and the schoolteacher, the flight attendants from the SEA-IAD flight on Friday. Well, we now knew what to expect and determined to have a fabulous flight in spite of it. We were looking forward to the hockey movie Mystery, Alaska, because Hunnybear is Canadian. I asked the redhead what was on the menu. She broke one out of the plastic bag and showed me, although she warned me that they hadn’t checked the actual food yet so it might not be accurate. It turned out to be OK, and it looked like a winner.
We had about a 40-minute wait on the ramp due to United scheduling a zillion flights all to leave within a half-hour of one another at 5:30. Finally we took off. We got the good mixed nuts and I ordered a Black Label and soda but got Black Label on the rocks.
Appetizer was a large serving of chilled smoked salmon that was one of the best appetizers I’ve had on United, even though it was served atop a mound of tasteless pickled cabbage. That was followed by an ordinary salad with choice of parmesan pepper or Asian sesame-ginger dressing. For the entrée, there were four choices: lamb chops, turkey piccata, salmon again, and ravioli. We both chose the lamb chops provençal. The portion was large and they were cooked medium, certainly edible if a bit more cooked than we usually order lamb, but my portion was quite fatty (Hunnybear’s was not). The seasoning was not particularly great, but overall it wasn’t bad, especially compared to the overdone slabs of rubber they’ve been serving me lately.
Mystery, Alaska was as clichéd a sports movie as you can get and it pulled all the right heartstrings because I was blubbering my eyes out by the end. I used to think the 757 was an inferior airplane to watch movies on because instead of a projection screen all they had was a video monitor. Now, compared with the LCD displays on the Airbus, I look forward to the quality on the 757!
Once again the stewardesses compressed the meal service, serving the cookies and the chocolates at the same time as the ice cream. I asked the schoolteacher if this was something new. She said no.
Audio was once again screwed up on this flight. My right channel kept clicking and distorting and Hunnybear could barely hear at all. Replacing headsets worsened my problem, cutting out the right channel completely. I just hope the mechanics take better care of the flying parts of the plane.
I had a chance to look at the manifest as I got up to refill my own water glass twice during the two hours after the dinner service in which the crew decided they didn’t have any more work to do. There were eight 1Ks (two of whom were million milers) and 10 Premier Executives in the 24-seat first-class cabin.
Just before landing, the redhead, whom we had a chance to chat with extensively as she sat around not working for the last two hours of the flight, came around with a superb hot-towel service. They were dripping wet and set to “surface of the sun” temperature. It was a nice end to a flight marred mostly by the indifferent service of two stewardesses who didn’t seem to want to be there, but also by the poor maintenance on the audio equipment.
Our bags came out near the front, MasterPark picked us up, and we took the secret freeway home.
The end.