We leave very, very early for the airport with a boxed breakfast compliments of Grand Circle. If nothing else, they do make sure we are fed.
The exact details are a little foggy at this writing—selective amnesia, I’m sure – but the trip home almost became the kind of nightmarish stuff that Hollywood loves to lampoon.
The arrival of our plane was delayed for hours. In fact, so many hours that we will completely miss all connecting flights.
I started with the airline’s counter girl once she opened for business…and she promptly sent me to the Lufthansa counter. They, however, insist it is the other airline’s responsibility and that they must handle any changes to the itinerary. So, back to the first counter (I can’t remember the airline at this writing) where she gets on the phone again (hopefully) trying to make alternative travel arrangements.
After a seemingly interminable and agonizing wait, she finally succeeded in getting us on a different flight to and through Munich — we were originally scheduled to fly out of Frankfort — and on an alternative flight to Chicago from which we should still be able to make our Cleveland-bound connection. And away we go.
In the end, our lucky stars were in alignment. We got home as scheduled.
In fact, we were doubly-blessed.
- Rob was assigned a front row window seat with a wide-open area in front of him.
- I was in an aisle seat in the row behind him.
- The seat between Rob and the aisle was vacant.
Shortly before the doors were closed, I asked the flight attendant if the middle seat in Rob’s row was available. And, if so, could I move into it? She said she’d have to ask her supervisor.
He came over and said that it available was but I would have to pay the “charge” for a “premium” seat.
“No problem,” I replied as I pulled out my United Mileage credit card.
“Oh,” he remarked upon seeing the card. “Are you a platinum member?”
“No,” I replied honestly. “I don’t know what level I am at.” (Grammer Police!!)
“Well, there’s no charge for you” he says as he returns my card. “You can have the seat.”
As I prepared myself to move, the first flight attendant chimed in, “Sir, you might want to check out the same row of seats on the opposite side of the plane. There are two seats available. You can have your choice.”
Jackpot!!
I chose the window seat, allowing the aisle-seat passenger and myself to relish in the luxuriousness of additional space provided by the open middle seat.
The flight home was a dream.
A Taste of the Soviet Bloc 