Why I Hate Christmas.
Posted on July 13th, 2010 by cre8dBecause we’re based in Singapore, it means every second Christmas we have to make the trek to see the in-laws. In Michigan. In Winter. And with 2 kids. And a wife who packs like a teenager trying to get out of a moving car.
This past Christmas was going to be different. We were off to our first skiing holiday in Canada.
Wait till you hear what happened.
First, the indignity of having to fly coach all the way from Singapore to San Francisco with the family. No amount of arm waving would clear the upgrades. Apparently, as a million mile flier with United, the best I could achieve was number 12 on the upgrade list.
The flights had people in the overhead lockers it was so full. United was at its worst.
No 1 son is outraged at the onboard entertainment options. We fly from Singapore to Tokyo first, then wait 2 hours, then Tokyo to SFO.
Thankfully, the United people let us use their lounge in Tokyo. I tell the kids to eat and drink everything in sight. I manage to drain 4-glasses of chardonnay in 3-minutes.
Then we land 30-mins late into SFO. We wait 60 agonising minutes for our luggage. How hard can it be? They obviously put our bags in the tail section of the plane just to piss me off. There was literally us and the United guy at the carousel when our bags finally came off the belt. Everyone else in the airport had gone home.
As a result, we miss our connection to Vancouver. And then our flight from Vancouver to Kelowna.
So – I then do battle with the United service desk. They tell me I am SOL (shit out of luck) and that there is a flight at 7pm that night. It was then 11.30am. Wife and I were losing the will to live and didn’t really want to wait 7-hrs in an airport with 2 kids (who were starting to go feral). United then had to get the Air Canada people on the phone to try and change our Vancouver to Kelowna tickets.
We all agree that it wasn’t a great day to travel. I suggest to UA that we all have a lie down, stay the night and try again first thing in the morning. They look at me blankly but reluctantly agree. There are now 2 women assisting me as both arms are above my head and I am uncontrollably using the word “fuck” a lot. The more senior of the women reaches into a drawer and blows dust off the hotel vouchers. It is for a wonderful establishment called the “Red Roof Inn”. Never heard of such a place and trust me, after 24-hours there, never want to ever again.
She gives me 2-rooms. And 4 x $15 meal vouchers. Because apparently you can feed a family of 4 on $60 across 24-hours. We arrive at the Red Roof Inn via what was left of a shuttle. Its pissing rain. Our luggage is soaked. We are tired and hungry.
Regrettably, we eat at the “restaurant” at the hotel. It is called “Leanns”. Leann is nowhere to be seen. Most likely she is in a minimum security federal penitentiary. We hand the waitress the vouchers and order off the menu. I probably ate what would have to be considered the worst hamburger in all of the continental US. They had run out of tomato. I am convinced the meat pattie wasn’t meat, but some sort of meat substitute. It was cooked 3-weeks ago.
The kids and wife take their lives into their own hands and order something called “hotwings”. They have this green radioactive glow to them as the waitress brings them to the table wearing a hazmat suit.
Thankfully, they serve Heineken. I order as many as I can. But the United vouchers don’t cover alcohol so I am forced to pay. I have given up caring at this point.
We crash back at the rooms but both kids have gone past the point of sleeping and are now bouncing off the beds. Some wise parent had decided to let them drink Mountain Dew over lunch. And apparently, Mountain Dew has more caffeine in it than 15 double espressos.
About 7pm, we emerge from the room and agree that life has to get better. So we decide to go into downtown SFO to eat. Excellent decision. (we try and get into the Tadich Grill, but the wait is over an hour so we press on). We end up having a great meal down at Fishermans Wharf. Wife and I drink heavily.
No1 son has just started talking to me again and insists that we hire a Lincoln Town Car – so we then proceed to spend a weeks pay on having a guy ferry us to the restaurant and back to the hotel.
Start travelling the next day at o’dark hundred (5am). We make the UA flight from SFO to Vancouver. Very pleasant flight. I try and punish UA by upgrading everyone to first (including a couple we met in the gate lounge). I tell everyone to drink as much as possible (despite it being an 8am flight). I drink 3 Bloody Mary’s and am throwing the empty vodka bottles over my shoulder.
We convince the Air Canada people to let us use their lounge while we wait 2-hours for the connection to Kelowna.
We arrive in Kelowna and then head up the mountain – after spending $300 on groceries. I forget to buy alcohol thinking surely you must be able to buy this up on the mountain.
It takes an hour and a half – its snowing, the traffic is at a crawl and you can’t see 10-feet in front of you. The kids are now trying to beat each other senseless and are at the point where they are simply ignoring anything that their mother and I say to them.
In my wisdom, I have hired a Lincoln Navigator. Its the size of a small country. But there is absolutely no room in the car with all our luggage and the food. The outside temp gauge is reading –15 degrees celsius. Even I think its cold.
Finally we arrive at Big White. It then takes an hour to get into the lodge. Long story. Wife and the kids are all crying in the car now. We have now been travelling for close on 40-hours.
But the lodge is fantastic. It is equipped with everything. Wife cooks dinner and I decide to go out and fill the back of the Navigator with alcohol. I drive around the resort for 45-minutes. Everything is shut. The bars don’t sell take away grog. I am prepared to pay $100 a bottle. But to no avail. Its Sunday night, and at 7pm everything is closed.
I start crying at this point.
Journey home was much better. Flights were on time from Canada back to SFO. Do battle with the Lounge Dragons at the SFO RCC.
No 1 son’s and my upgrade had already cleared 3-days prior. Wife and daughter were on separate PNR. Zero status. W fares all of us. I casually said to No 1 son that the polite thing to do would be to give his mother and sister the upgrades if they didn’t clear.
He told me that they “could sit and rotate”. That was a “no” then, was it?
I try everything I could to keep finding out where Wife and Daughter were on the list. But no amount of cajoling would budge the lounge dragons.
It was getting close! We headed down to the gate. No 1 son wasn’t helping matters by winding up his sister ranting “too bad, so sad, bye bye…” Or something like that.
Boarding commences. Wife’s glare is piercing my skull and I have figured that if their upgrades don’t clear, I won’t see Wife naked for another year.
GA comes on the PA. She calls Wife and daughter to the podium. Thank christ, we snagged the last 2 business class seats. No 1 son is now depressed.
We experience some of the best onboard service I have ever received in my UA career. The flying mattress looking after the main deck was absolutely convinced that we should be all seated together as a family. She started fussing and asking other passengers to move.
I politely told her that Wife and daughter would be much happier on their own. Which they were. And so were we.
Now I have to brace myself for doing it all over again.
