As far as I'm aware of, according to the map on my tv screen we are just off the coast of Prince Rupert and heading near the Gulf of Alaska. It's a 12 hour flight to Beijing from San Francisco and for some reason I thought it took more time. Well I've got 4116 more miles to go, we've travveled about 1821 miles and only 10 more fantastic hours to go. The morning (3:30 am-5:52 AM) got off on the wrong foot when we entered DIA. Everyone was migrating towards the check in for United aka relocating us to another check in station. In front of my Aunt (we were clearly aware) was a Chinese guy. The havey Mandarin accent yakking on the mobile was clearly heard. Being herded like caddle through the maze we weren't aware to continue to spread out. Everyone just clogged up in one area until finally this douche big in a condescedning tone told us to continue tohe line.
"THAT'S IT, THERE WE GO, LET'S GO PEOPLE." Do guys in cowboy hats always act like cocky bastards?? Geeze. So we spead the line out and then all of a suddent the Chiense guy decides to open up part of the gate to let in his fellow refugees I mean friends in. Factoring in lack of sleep and upholding contradicting juvenile rules I told him to go to the back of the line.
"That's my friend!" he retorts in a heavy Chinglish accent.
"yeah buddy I don't care, go back to the end of line."
Though, he persists and lets in more refugees until I said, "不行。" (Bu xing = You can't!)
Yet again, nothing happened since Aunt Dora and Peter told me to let go. Fuck that asshole. None the less I was slightly pissed. Peter wanted an apology, but wasn't convinced so I dropped the 'f' bomb on him several times.
The most dramatic event ensued when we started to check in our luggage. Aunt Dora was a bit anxiou about the trip. So when this happens (I've noticed) she starts to rush everything. She was in such an accelerated state that both of us got sucked into her game. Anyway long story short, we checked in a carry on as a check in. Can you say FUCK??!!
I feel morbid now after what entailed. I got into my frustrated mode and started ratting on my Aunt's mistake. I was frustrated because we'd have to carry on my red duffel bag which exceeds carry on standards by a few inches, and plus what was in the bag; liquids exceeding 3 oz's and later to my surprise a Swiss army knife. Thank you Office Lukowski who thoroughly checked my red duffel.
"Your're right! I'm stupid!" My Aunt cried out. Awkward 5 minutes pause. Oy not the way to commence one's travels! Bad juju.
Then...when I went to scan my visa on the kiosk, the words "INVALID" kept popping up. Quoi?
I had to seek assistance from a "United Airline customer representative" who told me to walk towards a lady who was 100 ft away who then told me that I had to go to the "additional' services line', which just so happened to be right next to the kiosk that kept screaming my China visa was invalid. Beauracracy.
The guy was very helptful w/our red duffel and we were informed that as long as the dimensions didn't exceed 45 inches then we'd be okay. I whip out my travel scale combo tape measure to calculate the dimenions. It was over by 6 inches. Fuck my life.
He complimented on how prepared I was and that it was nice to see a passenger who was prepared. When we went through security my red duffel was searched. I touched the bag to help Officer Lukowski, but was strictly informed "to not TOUCH the bag." I made that mistkae twice. Aunt was sorry for the luggage mishap because it took him three tries to find a fucking swiss army knife. I was worried about the time crucn, but hey the subway to the gate takes seconds.
We boarded around 6 am. Peter got a window seat and both of us looked out to a Colorado as the plane headed towards SF.
San Francisco: Little China
We had to grab the red duffel from bggage cliam since it exceeded carry on standards which meant that at the gate I had to manually check it in. From there we proceeded to terminal "G" : International terminal. The tellers were all Asian! All of the were probably Chinese too. Our UA teller is my heor. I like the way she handles passengers. She noticed our presence.
"Over here, alright I need to see your passports and then we can talk."
We explained the luggage situation we were in the midst of. The duffel was too big for international carry on standards so we'd have to check in it in. I didn't want to fork over $200 because of that (that was what the Denver rep said...fuck you) She took a look at our flight and informed us that there were not many seats taken therefore cargo shouldn't be too overwhelemd. Then she checked in the bag 'just this once' for free. I hope she's true to her word. Thank you you're my hero!
At this point Peter was cranky due to hunger. All of us were in the 'mood for food!' (Wallace and Gromit reference) Burgers, New England clam chowder, penne and fries went into our bellies. Nom Nom Nom!
Through security checkpoint #2 was where I had to chug the last fluid ounces of Boulder water. Damn liquids rule.We took a look at the Duty Free zone since Dad wanted some Remy Martin Cognac for his friend. Yeah fat chance.
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