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Birthday Hockey, day 1 of 3
Jan. 13th, 2023 11:59 pmFRIDAY
We caught a Lyft to Everett Station about quarter after eight so we could get the express bus to Seattle. Our driver, Quintin, was a nice-looking young black dude. On the bus we sat downstairs opposite the exit door. We switched from bus to train at ID/Chinatown Station. The train trip was uneventful and I spent much of it chatting with Zach on Messenger.
We arrived at the airport, used the restroom by checkpoint 5, and were directed to checkpoint 2 all the way at the other end of the airport for faster service. I had the presence of mind to pull both of my trays off the conveyor before recombobulating so I wouldn't be rushed. We headed downstairs to the shuttle train to concourse D and the circuit train to the North Satellite, then headed upstairs to the Alaska Lounge to wait the two hours and change before our flight. There we had drinks and snacks as we would be served lunch on the flight.
We went downstairs about one and boarded the plane 25 minutes after. We sat at the gate for quite some time after the boarding door had closed. I suspect they were waiting for a tug vehicle to become available. Once that was taken care of, we were airborne about 2:20 for a scheduled 1:55 departure. We took off to the south into a cloud bank and immediately turned to the east. I spent much of the flight watching home improvement shows: three episodes of "House Hunters" and one of "Fixer to Fabulous" (the latter featuring many hot Southern bears). Meanwhile, except when our nice-looking Asian flight attendant with a split-ring barbell in his nose served us our food, Gary slept most of the flight. On our final descent I handed Gary my phone to get some aerial photos.
We reached the gate, quickly deplaned, and descended into a brightly decorated tunnel recognizable from 1970s films and TV shows. At the opposite end we bypassed baggage claim and went directly to the LAX Flyaway shuttle stop, pausing briefly at the pink shuttle stop to remark on the last route identified: X LAX shuttle. Presumably it arrives regularly. (Gary, sotto voce: "Bitch.") As the next coach to Van Nuys (opposite direction from where we were headed) arrived and departed, a large family seated on the benches with two full carts of luggage spotted their ride (a full-size black SUV) across the street and scrambled to load up. We took their place on the bench until the next coach in our direction, Union Station, arrived. There was a younger dude at the stop about to wave off the coach because he was heading to Van Nuys, but we managed to convey to the driver we were going his way and he stashed our bags and beckoned us aboard. At that hour (5 PM) it was already dark and traffic was crawling as usual.
We arrived at Union Station a little after six, Gary activated our online tickets and we decided to call for a Lyft to the hotel. We found the pickup point after following a series of signs. Our driver, Chi, managed to navigate the tricky freeway route to the hotel and still keep up with conversation, asking who scored a hat trick in his NHL debut game (there have been 7, with the Leafs' Auston Matthews being the most recent and the only one to score 4 goals in that debut). We got checked in and took some pictures from the room, with the lights off to avoid reflections. This resulted in Gary tripping comically over the ottoman just like Dick van Dyke.
Once we were unpacked, we decided to have dinner in the hotel bar on the lobby level. Unfortunately, the bar was more of a snack bar, with pre-made salads and parfaits rather than a sit-down menu. So we went with the Yard House across the street. They were playing the Clippers game on most of the screens, with one or two showing a replay of the Thursday Night Football matchup between the 49ers and the Seahawks in Seattle earlier this season (to be reprised the next day in the wild card game in Santa Clara). I had a tall pub glass of Angry Orchard and an order of Nashville Hot chicken with pancakes; Gary had a bottomless glass of Dr. Pepper with his mac and cheese. There was a large and festive crew of young dudes gathered at the bar beside our table; one borrowed a chair we weren't using.
We returned to the hotel and I picked up some drinks in the lobby on the way back to the room. We took a look at the fitness center and pool but concluded neither would be useful in the predicted heavy rain the next day. I felt more than a little "rode hard and put up wet" so I got a shower before bed. We had local news on the TV and I was sound asleep by 11:30.
We caught a Lyft to Everett Station about quarter after eight so we could get the express bus to Seattle. Our driver, Quintin, was a nice-looking young black dude. On the bus we sat downstairs opposite the exit door. We switched from bus to train at ID/Chinatown Station. The train trip was uneventful and I spent much of it chatting with Zach on Messenger.
We arrived at the airport, used the restroom by checkpoint 5, and were directed to checkpoint 2 all the way at the other end of the airport for faster service. I had the presence of mind to pull both of my trays off the conveyor before recombobulating so I wouldn't be rushed. We headed downstairs to the shuttle train to concourse D and the circuit train to the North Satellite, then headed upstairs to the Alaska Lounge to wait the two hours and change before our flight. There we had drinks and snacks as we would be served lunch on the flight.
We went downstairs about one and boarded the plane 25 minutes after. We sat at the gate for quite some time after the boarding door had closed. I suspect they were waiting for a tug vehicle to become available. Once that was taken care of, we were airborne about 2:20 for a scheduled 1:55 departure. We took off to the south into a cloud bank and immediately turned to the east. I spent much of the flight watching home improvement shows: three episodes of "House Hunters" and one of "Fixer to Fabulous" (the latter featuring many hot Southern bears). Meanwhile, except when our nice-looking Asian flight attendant with a split-ring barbell in his nose served us our food, Gary slept most of the flight. On our final descent I handed Gary my phone to get some aerial photos.
We reached the gate, quickly deplaned, and descended into a brightly decorated tunnel recognizable from 1970s films and TV shows. At the opposite end we bypassed baggage claim and went directly to the LAX Flyaway shuttle stop, pausing briefly at the pink shuttle stop to remark on the last route identified: X LAX shuttle. Presumably it arrives regularly. (Gary, sotto voce: "Bitch.") As the next coach to Van Nuys (opposite direction from where we were headed) arrived and departed, a large family seated on the benches with two full carts of luggage spotted their ride (a full-size black SUV) across the street and scrambled to load up. We took their place on the bench until the next coach in our direction, Union Station, arrived. There was a younger dude at the stop about to wave off the coach because he was heading to Van Nuys, but we managed to convey to the driver we were going his way and he stashed our bags and beckoned us aboard. At that hour (5 PM) it was already dark and traffic was crawling as usual.
We arrived at Union Station a little after six, Gary activated our online tickets and we decided to call for a Lyft to the hotel. We found the pickup point after following a series of signs. Our driver, Chi, managed to navigate the tricky freeway route to the hotel and still keep up with conversation, asking who scored a hat trick in his NHL debut game (there have been 7, with the Leafs' Auston Matthews being the most recent and the only one to score 4 goals in that debut). We got checked in and took some pictures from the room, with the lights off to avoid reflections. This resulted in Gary tripping comically over the ottoman just like Dick van Dyke.
Once we were unpacked, we decided to have dinner in the hotel bar on the lobby level. Unfortunately, the bar was more of a snack bar, with pre-made salads and parfaits rather than a sit-down menu. So we went with the Yard House across the street. They were playing the Clippers game on most of the screens, with one or two showing a replay of the Thursday Night Football matchup between the 49ers and the Seahawks in Seattle earlier this season (to be reprised the next day in the wild card game in Santa Clara). I had a tall pub glass of Angry Orchard and an order of Nashville Hot chicken with pancakes; Gary had a bottomless glass of Dr. Pepper with his mac and cheese. There was a large and festive crew of young dudes gathered at the bar beside our table; one borrowed a chair we weren't using.
We returned to the hotel and I picked up some drinks in the lobby on the way back to the room. We took a look at the fitness center and pool but concluded neither would be useful in the predicted heavy rain the next day. I felt more than a little "rode hard and put up wet" so I got a shower before bed. We had local news on the TV and I was sound asleep by 11:30.