Travel day 1 enroute SFO

The SWA operations agent utters the dreaded words to the non-revenue traveler  “that flight’s not going to happen.”  Checking the next flight we are told the same answer, “not going to happen.”   So we start on our journey on this, the last day of school, ironically, to beat the rush out of Orlando.  As I continued to check flights out of the ’land of famous mice and ducks”, a bit of tension creeps in.  Wound up tighter than a $5 dollar watch is more like it.  The seat availability looks all the same: zero-zero-zero-zero.  Our original plan was to  take the direct flight to Vegas, and thence connect to SFO.  We take a seat in the gate area, and watch the harried boarding process, all the while hoping for the best.  However, the gate agent has already reported that our flight out of town is overbooked by 4. 

10 minutes before pushback time, we hear our first encouraging words broadcast over the airport PA.  “Last call for Flt. 234, if you are not onboard at this time, your tickets will be given away.”  Could it be? A small glimmer of hope?  We continue to wait patiently as the apprehension grows.  Our eyes are glued on the operations agent behind the podium, as she busily taps her keyboard. Hoping for her to transform to magician before our eyes, creating some seats out of thin air, as if pulling a rabbit from a hat, we are hailed to her station.  Expecting 1 or 2 seats to have come available, I am floored when she hands over 5 boarding passes.  I am ready to jump over the podium to give her a big hug.  Smiles abound as we busily make our way down the Tunnel of LUV onto the aircraft, a shiny new -800 series direct to Las Vegas.  I cannot believe our good fate, which moments before had seemed so hopeless.  Rebecca asks, “are we on vacation now, can we start to relax? “  Undoubtedly, her reports of my shortness of patience, and preoccupation are well founded, as we embark on travel which although affordable, is far from relaxing.   After our 5 hour sojourn onboard flight 234, we arrive in LAS and hit up the 360 Burrito shop as we make it to our flight to SFO. Dylan, in full "teenage boy mode" acts like we are flying from restaurant to restaurant, filling up at every opportunity.  I am totally amazed that we got the last seats out of town, and made it to the opposite coast, no worse for the wear.  We all have had a long day, and the kids’ cooperation factor was actually pretty high, despite all of the external factors which could’ve derailed that ever elusive family harmony.  Stepping off the plane, we are happily greeted by the 50 degree blast of windy Pacific air, having arrived, and beating the odds in yet another non-revenue journey.