Ah the wonderful world of Johnny. Details, details, details of Keith’s visit to suburban hell… er, Tampa Bay.
So I was f’n stoked on a Saturday Night when the Lightning tied the Stanley Cup finals. Keith, of course, is in disbelief. He had expected to be attending one of the upteenth city parites that would be going on if–no, WHEN the Flames had won.
But it didn’t happen that way.
So what happens when Keith gets home from Saddledome? He’s got to book hsi flight to Tampa. He had tickets lined up since the Flames / Lightning NHL Finals had been set. Game 7 tickets in fact. The series hadn’t been as good as we both had hoped but – gods – this was a game seven! You can’t scalp tickets for an event like this for less than 500 bucks… We got them through Ticketmaster before the game was even scheduled – so we’re in luck.
Sunday night, Keith was due to start flying to Tampa — going to Vegas first and then getting a connector flight / red eye to Tampa. Only problem was his flight was 2 hours late to begin with, which thus made him miss his connecting red-eye flight to Tampa.
Back in the Bay area I am going nuts Sunday night trying to figure out WTF has happened to Keith. He’s stranded, or is he moving? Flyte Comm basically confirmed where Keith was — just leaving Alberta – about the time I was ready to call it a night.
I decided to indeed call it a night, wondering what the hell was going to happen and how Keith woudl be when he finally got here – if he got here…?
I wake up bright and early Monday morning and have a sense of urgency running over me. Not just urgency but anxiousness. Within a couple of hours the Lightning would be playing for a world title and I would be in attendance.
Maybe.
My first thought is – where Keith? His connector fflight took off on time (fuck America West) and that meant he indeed missed his connector flight. I fought on the phone for a good hour trying to find out what happened to him and I find out (through America West customer service) that he’s “Taken another route and going to another city. He’s all right.”
Well, whoop-de-shit. He’s OK. Now where is he? “Sorry, can’t say… but he’s all right.” :rolleyes
I call his cell phone (which I am still told is a wrong number by parties that call back later — but it’s the same number that America West has in their system and same number I have from Keith directly) but I still tell him on his message service to give me a ring to let me knwo what happened and where he is…
I find out a little while later it’s Orlando, and he’s still on his way here.
(more…)