Montana - Friday edition

As I boarded my first flight I was greeted by a friendly young flight attendant named Seth. He was very perky and made me wonder if I accidentally bought a ticket on Southwest. Nope, this was definitely a prop plane and I definitely just walked across the tarmac to climb a ramp to the plane. This particular leg I nabbed an aisle seat and lucky me, there were several teenage girls across the aisle and behind me. There’s nothing I enjoy more than listening to gossip, Hollywood (at this point I checked and no, my sister was not on the flight. Don’t worry, she knows she loves that stuff. It’s even on her blog) and how stupid certain people they know are. As the 35 minute flight continued, Seth and Kaylee provided excellent service. I even received an entire bottle of water! Wow! And the (FREE!) snack was mini crispy bruschetta with rosemary baked in. Basically, I ate 50 calories worth of glorified croutons. By the end of the flight, it was determined that these girls were actually 5-6 years older than me. How do I know this? Because they were talking about where they were when Mt. St. Helens blew. They were all in kindergarten and thought it blew in 1981 or 1982. It took everything I had not to pull a, "well actually. . .it was 1980 because it happened a week before I was born."

Off at Sea Tac and one hour later back on the same plane with Seth and Kaylee. The two of them had their shpeel down when going over the pre-flight instructions. They must be newbies because no one is that excited about cushions also acting as a flotation device. The only bummer – OK, it was a big bummer – was my seat assignment. I purposely reserved a window seat because I wanted to look at Montana as I flew over it. I’ve heard so much about it and seen so many pictures and movies (Hello? A River Runs Through It) so I find seat 11A and lo and behold, I do not have a window. WHAT? That’s ridiculous! I have WINDOW seat! That implies I should get BOTH: a window and a seat. Here’s what happened: on a plane the windows don’t line up exactly with each row of seats. Sometimes your window is a little in front or a little behind. Sometimes you may get TWO windows. (jackpot!) well in my case, I didn’t get ANY window. I got a wall. Well that’s just super. Luckily Seth gave me some more croutons and water so that made it all better.

Landing in Missoula. . .why is the sunset still visible at 11pm? Kind cool but jeepers, how do you sleep? Who am I kidding, when was the last time I was trying to go asleep before 11pm. The Missoula airport is. . .how do I say this. . .small. Which is ironic because it’s a massively huge state and the bitterroot valley is surrounded by these looming mountains on both sides (which are GORGEOUS by the way.) I turned on my phone once inside the terminal because I’m so popular that someone surely called me and left a message in the past 1 hours and 15 minutes while I was on the plane. Turns out not one but two people loved me! The first went a little something like this:
Hi Laura. This is Gary from the Townhouse Inn in Hamilton. It’s about 9:10 and we haven’t heard from you yet today so we’re going to assume you won’t be coming in tonight. I wanted to let you know that we’ll be releasing your room to any walk-ins. Please give me a call back if you have any questions.

Yeah, Gary, I have one question: WTF?!?! The second message was from my mom but I was so fired up that I just saved it and didn't even listen to it. Heck, she could have called to say we won the lottery, which meant I could afford to stay at the Holiday Inn (seriously, it was double the Townhouse Inn) or heck, buy a plot of land and build my house house in Hamilton to stay at, and I wouldn't have cared. At this point I was ready to hit something or cry. (clearly I have a split personality and anger management issues.) I called the previous day and confirmed my reservation and confirmed the late check-in. I started planning my threats to Gary while I dug in my (totally cute, new, pink Nike) bag for the phone number. “You’re going to book me in a neighboring hotel and you’re going to pay for it.” I realize a lot of the time I’m all talk when I get wound up, but perhaps the stress, lack of sleep and nerves would actually push it over the edge this time and I was fully prepared to regulate. I called Gary back and it went a little something like this:
Hi Gary. This is Laura (insert last name). You left me a message while I was on the plane and said you would be giving my room away. I’m not sure why that would happen because I called yesterday and confirmed my reservation and that my flight into Missoula was getting in at 11pm. Have you given my room away yet?
Gary: No, we haven’t had anyone walk in.
A Very Relieved Me: Great.
Gary: We usually don’t hold rooms past 9pm.
A Confused Me: (how is that even relevant for late check-ins and why isn't your entire staff educated on this policy?) Like I said, I called yesterday to confirm everything specifically so this wouldn’t happen.
Gary: Are you coming tonight?
An Annoyed Me: as I said before, my flight just landed in Missoula. I’m picking up my rental car and then I’ll be on my way.
Gary: We’ll see you when you get here.
A Still Annoyed Me: ok, bye

OK, so I could have been nicer but contextually, I’ve justified it.

The high schooler at the Hertz rental counter (on the same level and not quite 100 yards away from my arrival gate) was really nice, despite the fact that it was Friday night around 11:22pm and I know she would rather be with friends or asleep. Shoot, who wouldn’t? After denying all kinds of extra expenses and extra insurance, I was handed keys to my car for the next 21 hours: a Mazda 6. Oh yea. My night perked way up when I discovered it came with a GPS unit. Sweet! Now I won’t get lost on a rural Montana highway and end up in Canada in the morning! I don’t think I would have anyway, considering I had no less than 6 maps of Montana and Missoula of every range and size. I gave Shiela (the name I gave the GPS) the hotel’s address and situated everything I would need for the drive (and stay awake during the drive.) My phone in the first cup holder, a Winco bulk foods bag of M&M’s in the second cup holder, Google directions facing me on the passenger seat and radio stations reprogrammed to my liking. Said a prayer for protection and I was off!

Is it weird that I kind of felt grown up? Soemtimes I feel that way when I travel. I had all my reservations and confirmation codes, I had just rented a car and I was driving to someplace I had never been. In the dark. In rural Montana. (is that like saying suburban Tigard?) Yes, I was scared. Mostly that I was going to be struck and killed by a deer trying to cross the road. I shared this fear with several people (hotel staff, wedding attendants, airport shuttle drivers) and all of them confirmed this fear placed in me by the bride. They had all either been hit or had a close friend or family member whose vehicle had been totaled. Well great. I didn’t really like the look of the Mazda anyway. Maybe that hole in the passenger side door and dent in the rear bumper would actually improve it.

I passed establishment such as the Rear Stump along the way. I also played around with the radio stations and found a great 80’s station. That’s awesome! Montana loves the 80’s so I love Montana. I also called some VIP’s to let them know I had landed was on the road and they listened as I vented about the hotel situation. God bless them.

Slightly over one hour and several U-turns later, I pulled into the Townhouse Inn. Which, by the way, had a casino in it. I met Gary, was polite, and received keys to the last available room. Being the last free room I was the farthest away from the front desk, continental breakfast, security, you know, all that good stuff. Before going to bed, I let the VIP’s know I was in bed in the hotel. I also tried on the bridesmaid dress with the strapless bra I brought. . .for the first time. Yes, I realize I should have done this sooner but I had to know in case I had to head to the K-Mart next door in the morning. Everything fit and the girls were in place. (Ever since a flashing disaster I experienced at the reception of the first wedding I was ever in, I make it a point to see that just I attend the wedding, and not all three of us.)

Lights out at 1:30am with the alarm set to go off exactly 6 hours later. . .