Honeymoon to Cancun
AKA the Swine Flu Dodge Adventures
Day 1: Back in Time
Well, I’m typing on our non stop flight from Atlanta to Cancun right now. Although we never actually booked a flight of this nature, here we are.
Preparing for the trip started all day yesterday. I went to all the final doctors appointments so that I could be green lighted for my surgery on the 2nd. I was likened to a pin cushion as 2 different facilities drained me of what little blood my anemic body is capable of producing these days. Then, I went and got the best pedicure I could get for the minimal amount of money I could find (so I could keep some dollars on me in the ‘Cun). Went to my old spot from back in the days that I’ve grown out of because I’m bourgified and older and feel that if I have the dough, I should spend and get exactly what I want. But since we’re in a recession and I did put all my pennies from my jar into this trip, that extravagance couldn’t be indulged. Got home and the hubby had graciously re-washed my already clean laundry (damn it smells good!) and the packing commenced. We fell out on the couch about 10PM and then woke up again at 1:00 AM to finish the process. E cleaned out the kitchen of all garbage and potential spoilables so that we wouldn’t come home to horribleness and I finished packing, making sure all my liquids were TSA compliant and showered to prepare for the trip. At 4 AM we drove out to his frat brother Wil who has graciously agreed to watch our cars (good week for it too, with the Asencion giving no alt side for Thursday, we’re able to just leave my car right where it is). And we drove out to LaGuardia Airport. We had 3 flights booked. One on AirTran from NY to Atlanta. Then continuing flights on Delta courtesy of Continental deciding it wanted to switch our flights around – one flight from ATL to Houston and then the final leg from Houston to Cancun..
We made the first flight alright, although it was a PACKED flight and I was sandwiched between the hubby and a man twice his size who didn’t really believe in soap or deoderant. * my poor nose * Luckily, we were still so tired we slept for most of that flight which was uneventful. The next leg is what was worrying me. I knew we would touch down at 8:25 and that our connecting flight was at 8:54. Airlines never play that show up to the gate 5 minutes before takeoff shit anymore. It was great for a few cute movies but in real life? If you’re not at the gate 30 minutes before take off, you better have a very convincing song and dance. Well, we did touch down at 8:25, on the dot. But in row 29… with a whole bunch of slow assed people who stored their luggage all up and down the length of the plane. After must hemming and hawing behind slow behind stupid people, we made it to the connecting gate 20 minutes before takeoff!! Pretty good, huh?
Not so much.
The flight was closed AND booked SOLID. There was no getting on it or the next 3 flights to Houston to make our connecting flight to Cancun. I queried her if there were any flights directly from ATL to Cancun. She let us know of one at 10:55 that had available seats but stated with assurance ‘”I don’t think they’ll let you go on a direct flight.” In my mind I’m thinking, I don’t see why they shouldn’t – it’s their fault we didn’t have our first round of flights to begin with. After going to FOUR different gates (at Hartsfield… now you KNOW we was hoofin’) and finally getting to the gate where this mystical elusive 10:55 direct flight was leaving from, we met up with our angels for the day. The gate attendants who didn’t see why we COULDN’T be redirected. They went and typed in their little codes and Taaaa daaaaa…. here we are soaring above what looks to be like Texas… although I’m sure we’re not that far yet.
We’re on a 757 that looks like it has just about 35 – 40 rows of 6 chairs each and there are maybe 50 people on the plane. I turned to E earlier and said… this is feeling like a horror movie… a little. You know… where the white folks typically say … “Hey look! A haunted house!! looks like fun… let’s go…” and the black folks be like, “Um… hell naw – we goin’ home… text us later.” We are one of 2 black couples on this flight. The rest? 2520s. And let me tell you RIGHT EFFIN NOW… all them damned precautions they’re talking about? “cough into your sleeve” “cover your mouth with a tissue if you sneeze” “don’t fucking fly if you’re sick”? To the winds they have gone with this batch of folk. They are the coughinest, no mouth coverin-est, smelly spray sneeze havin, don’t give a damn who they get sick group of people. I am covering my nose with my teeshirt and praying for salvation. We are now over the water somewhere… maybe over the gulf of Mexico looking at low clouds that are little spurs and puffs of cotton over the sea. I can’t wait to get to the final destination and get a little sun.
Strangely the other thing rolling through my mind…
When we’re growing up in this society, we always point up whenever “Heaven” is referenced. Ageless paintings make nirvana a home in celestial scenery. The immediate thought when one says heaven is the sky. Angels flying about, God sitting on a throne of clouds. But that particular concept is shattered for most kids when they fly the first time. For me, the excitement was in learning that even if it’s shitty on the ground with rain or snow or greyness, once you break above the clouds it’s ALWAYS a gorgeous day. But it makes it harder to grasp where the energy we knew to be our loved ones who have passed on might have gone. It’s not in the sky… might not be on this planet… somewhere in the vast reaches of the universe, the energy that was once my granny… my daddy… my mommy… is repurposed and seemingly unreachable. I’ve always said the worst part of all of this is that there’s no forwarding address for those who have ascended. At least if I had a phone number… or an email address… it wouldn’t feel so impossible to wrap my mind around where they are…. what happens to us when we die… how real everything is that we’re doing here in this form if we just all go away without explanation… What’s the purpose…