Oh, let me count the ways.
As I've written in the past, there was the fuckup from the get-go, wherein we either missed or didn't even receive an e-mail from the nice Sundance
folks, which meant that we'd only be able to get a set of vouchers which could be exchanged for whatever tickets might be available.
We already knew about this...
This morning, we got up at an unGodly hour, packed the dog off to a friend's house, and then drove through the drizzle to the airport, submitted ourselves to the customary strip-search, boarded, settled in for the flight. When the wife selected her seat, on the window side so she could sleep, away from the passengers who were still flying through from wherever, she noticed that someone had left some magazines behind, but, oh well, we tucked them under the seat and settled in. Imagine our surprise when some trendy blonde bitch, who apparently thinks that whatever airport she happens to have a 'stay on the plane' layover at is her personal playground, has left her shit to save her seat while she nipped into the snack bar for some food!?!?! Annoyed, but still in the wrong, she gets her shit from us and moves back a row, settled now on the aisle rather than her preferred window, beside two chatty Mexican guys who obviously annoy the shit out of her for the next two hours until we reach Las Vegas for our hour and a half layover after the bumpiest flight in recent memory. She springs out her seat and near paces in frustration until she can get off the plane.
"I sure as hell hope she gets where she's going." was K's comment.
We wander through the Vegas airport, have a little lunch at a place that tries to sell me a margarita at 9:30 in the morning, and grab a cinammon roll from Cinnabon for dessert. The wife throws $5.00 in a slot machine for a good minute and a half of spinning fun, I watch a counter attendant shout at an older man, and even though I'm itching to see it escalate, nothing happens. How cool would that have been, a fifty-something white man in a scuffle in the middle of the airport with a 40 yr old black woman with a lot of attitude?
Once we settle at our gate to wait out our departure time, we're surrounded by the type of people who I imagine you'd have to wade through droves of in Hollywood, trendy self-involved
pricks who should be exterminated. Most of the people are going the same place we are, either for the film festival, or the skiing. I, of course, immediately hate
everyone on the plane, they all seem to know each other and are very pleased with themselves because of it...seriously, if I see anyone else wearing enormous sunglasses faux-kiss someone on each cheek in greeting, there will be murders.
Once on the ground in Salt Lake City, Utah, we go and stand like cattle in a waiting room around the gawdamned baggage carousel, which after a 20 minute wait (!) eventually spits out luggage from no less than 6
different planes, so we have to stand around for another 15 minutes or so, before getting all our crap in hand. We pick up the rental car, a Cheverolet Something
, I have no idea, but it runs like it has a lawnmower engine in it, and is a lovely shade of metallic orange.
We take turns throwing up, then load the luggage and set out for Park City.
We take a driving tour of the town, as we have a bit of trouble finding the hotel, and eventually get turned around, and locate our lodgings, which look a little suspect, but trying to have a positive outlook, we check in and go up to the room.
...which turns out to have a strange stale smell to it, and two twin beds rather than one queen or king...I feel like Rob Petrie or something, but figure we can deal with it, sleep in them on alternating nights, whatever.
K has her reservations about things, and I begin to as well, when I notice that the internet connection in the room is run through the television
, via a wireless keyboard that has virtually no response unless you stab at the keys in fits of anger, I finally do get pissed and call the front desk, asking them where the hell I can plug a laptop in within their hotel. They assure me that there's wireless capabilities with the proper password, which settles me a bit.
Still trying to keep a positive outlook, we head into town to go to the box office and see what the deal is with the tickets, and what movies we can actually get into. After circling the entire town looking for a parking spot, or one that doesn't want a $20 parking fee, or one that simply isn't full, we spy a lot directly across from the box office, with free parking for 15 minute limits for people picking up tickets. After making our way through two different lines, we have vouchers for tickets, but the real trick is that the first film that has any tickets available is on the afternoon of the day we leave
. What we can do
is fight our way through the other suckers each morning for the next five days to get on a waiting list in case someone doesn't show, or we can do some weird lottery option in which we turn up 2 hours in advance of a film's showtime, take a number, and then come back 30 minutes before showtime and see if our number is among the cancellations they've had.
The upshot is, we may
get to see a few
movies over the bext five days of fighting our way through absolutely horrendous
traffic and schmucky people.
We've booked a flight home for tomorrow afternoon, because this sucks and maybe God was trying to tell us something when we originally found out we didn't have tickets reserved.
Be seeing you.Tag, you're it, Baggy Eyes! Sundance 2007
, Misery & Vomit
Labels: Clusterfuck, Miserable, Salt Lake City, Shoot Me, Sundance Film Festival, Travel