Delta Flight Adventures

After my uber-tiring Hawaiian Airlines experience flying to Las Vegas in August (well, it wasn’t the flying, it was the walking after landing), I decided to do it the easy way this time and fly on Delta Airlines, allowing me to walk a short distance after arrival at McCarran and catch a cab to the Flamingo Hotel.

I eschewed a car rental as well, figuring if I wanted to rent a car later, I could use the Hertz desk at the Flamingo.

So anyway, I paid a few bucks extra for what they call “comfort seating” with extra leg room. That was great, until just before takeoff from Honolulu, the world’s largest woman plopped herself into the center seat next to me. I mean, she was big … she even needed a seat-belt extension, the poor thing.

Scratch one comfortable flight for me.

We arrived in Salt Lake City (yep, that’s where my connection was), and the outside temperature on arrival was -10˚C (14˚F). Good thing I didn’t have to go outdoors, just had to walk a bit to my next flight.

Thank God, a thinner person sat next to me on the flight to Las Vegas.

* * * * *

Fortunately, on the flight home from Los Angeles to Honolulu, I was able to upgrade to first-class, always a joy because of the trip-fatigue factor. Plus, sometimes you get to see famous people.

Across the aisle from me, one row up, was a familiar face. The woman looked like Amy Adams. Pretty face, red hair, nice clothes and all. You know, the famous Oscar nominee of Junebug, Doubt, The Fighter, The Master, and two films that I actually saw: The Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian, and Julie and Julia.

Her image was rather fresh in my mind since I had just seen her on The Jay Leno Show the previous night.

And I could swear that was her across the aisle. I sneaked a picture of her with my iPad while she was up there talking to the flight attendants, while I tried not to be too obvious. She and a woman in front of me were talking across the aisle about travel to Hawaii and to Europe; surely, I thought, that was Ms. Adams. But I didn’t say anything, tempted as I was to say hello and tell her I admired her work.

Good thing too. As we were disembarking, she was walking in front of me and she was equal to my height. The real Amy Adams is much less than 5-9 (so now you know my height). Plus, she was much too buxom to be Ms. Adams.

Oh well … c’est la vie!