Mediterranean 2009: Saturday 25 July

9:30 AM

Dan picks us up in Bellevue to keep us from paying extortionate parking fees while we are away. Chris begins the ass-talking immediately re: the rental Xterra: "It's probably a 2007." This came out with no provocation and very little veracity,so was immediately followed by "what-the-hell-?" stares.

Had a bit of an issue checking in due to the ever present passport name issue (I don't know why airport employees can't manage to read an amended passport... or why the U.S. Government can't amend a passport in a readable manner...) I will skip over the conversation with the Delta rep who treated us as though we were mentally-challenged when we said we couldn't use the check in kiosks, but we were quickly sorted out by a rep at the desk and were able to make a strategic retreat to the Crown Room for a drink. I know, it's 10:00 am, but check in was stressful.

11:45 AM

Boarded Plane, began taxi; pilot tells us we are first in line to take off, when we immediately begin to slow down. As the engines stop completely, the pilot comes back on the intercom to tell us that there are delays in ATL (surprise surprise!) and we are to wait on the runway indefinitely. Typical. This is why we changed to an earlier flight, people. We have NEVER made it through ATL on time. EVER. Now someone's watch/phone/whatever alarm is sounding continually and our fellow travelers are getting rightfully testy. How about a free drink, Delta?? If they don't get some alcohol in these people, there is going to be chaos.

1:30 PM

Arrive in ATL, and Dan refuses to let us eat, as he is positive that he can get all 5 of us into the Crown Room on his "self plus guest" card. Apparently, he just needs to tell them that "Jack Stewart" said it was OK. We all look at each other, knowing Dan's proclivity for memory mishaps, and James asks him if he is SURE that Jack Stewart is the correct name. Dan waves an airy hand, says he is sure, and disappears into the recesses of the Crown Room's double doors. We wait a few minutes, our stomachs growling with both hunger and unease, until Dan pops back out, flapping his hand in a "come on in" gesture.
Now, for those of us who are skilled in the reading of Daniel Tudor's face, it was clear that though he was outwardly displaying joy and jollility, something was amiss. (It's all in the eyebrows, people.) It was also clear from the first utterance of the man at the desk that all was not gaiety and bliss: "You said there were two more. Now there are three." This in a deadpan, you-are-trying-my-patience type of voice, with the expression to match. Turns out, Jack Stewart was NOT the name of the man he was supposed to mention, in fact it was nothing CLOSE to the name he was supposed to mention, and on top of that disaster, there was also some misunderstanding about the number of people Dan was trying to sneak in, with the upshot of all this being that the clerk now thought Dan was attempting some sort of intricate conspiracy involving deliberate confusion and sleight of hand, instead of just being an idiot, which was the far closer to the truth. In the end, I believe the psychological trauma finally got to the poor desk attendant, and he let all five of us in, but with the caveat that he would be documenting Dan's account, whatever that means.

Anyhow, we all slunk into the lounge, past the desk clerk's gimlet eye, and found seats, whereupon Dan was swiftly reprimanded for attempting to consume a Jack & Coke. (His doctor has put a ban on all soft drinks due to a kidney stone the size of an Easter Island monolith, and frankly, none of us much feels like being hauled off of the boat when he starts howling in pain and becoming a nuisance to the general public.)
Met a very nice (and handsome) man in the lounge who gave us a few tips on touring Rome (for example, do not carry your wallet where it can be accessed by children highly skilled at item removal.) Much debating occurred later as to this man's nationality and heritage, with both Ton and I asserting that wherever he is from, their gene pool seems to be doing quite well...

4:15 PM

We have boarded our flight to Rome, and it has been made very clear to us why we usually prefer to fly in the area a bit nearer to the cockpit. As Wodehouse once said, these seats were built by one who knew that chairs were to be worn tight around the hips this season. Also, the crying infant in the adjacent row. (A real one, not Chris...) Spirits are, however, slightly higher since I wrote on Dan's head with a ball point pen from my strategic position in the rear seat. I'm always a team player.