If You are Going to San Francisco...

Make sure it's for an actual trip and not just some random layover for your intended destination.

If I can offer you any words of advice, it would be this. DO NOT. I repeat. DO NOT -- fly US Airways. Ever. I'm serious when I say this. What US Airways did to us, should be factored into the Geneva Conventions. I swear, people in Gitmo might just have it a skosh bit better than the passengers who fly on US Airways do.

Seriously.

The original plan was supposed to be this:
Fly to Charlotte, NC
Connect to Phoenix, AZ.
Connect to Flagstaff, which would be the last leg of our flight leaving and arriving the same night.

However, this was never to be.

Our flight started out delayed, then, even more delayed. Needless to say, we missed our connecting flight to Phoenix. Airline representatives were at the gate, each with new tickets for most of us passengers who were on board. In our unlucky lottery, we got a new itinerary. It sucked, royally. In the morning, we would fly to San Fransisco, connect to Phoenix and finally connect to Flagstaff. Okay, we thought, resigned to our fate, and as we went to retrieve our luggage, discovered that it was already en route to our final destination. "It will be there way before you arrive", promised the US Airways representative. She was kind enough to throw each of us a bone in the form of a complimentary toiletry kit. Gee. Thanks. Angry, frustrated, and weary eyed, we reluctantly agreed. I grabbed up the special slip for "distressed passengers" which landed us discount hotel accommodations. We took a taxi cab to the only hotel that would accept us so late, and converged on Waffle House, the only option open in the vicinity to fill our starving bellies. Thankfully it happened to be situated right next to our abode for the night.

Waffle House were the only ones who came through for us that night.

The next morning, worried and still reeling from the night prior, we left for the airport on barely a night's sleep, and in the clothing we wore the previous day. You would think that after all that trauma things would run a bit more smoothly, right? Wrong. Again, the flight was delayed. However, luck was on our side in a weird kind of way for our connection in San Francisco because the flight to Phoenix was delayed as well. However, it too bit us square in the arse because arriving in Phoenix so late caused us to miss our connection to Flagstaff. This elicited screaming fits from my mother and I towards the gate staff. Luckily, we were able to catch another flight, but at a cost of another delay.

Finally, when we arrived at our destination, we discovered that our luggage was missing. After slightly boiling under the pressure of all that US Airways threw at us, I finally lost my cool. We headed to Target for some new clothing and toiletries. I figured that if worse came to worse, we could survive on just two outfits for the entire trip, making sure to wash our clothing each day. On the way to the checkout counter, we got the most glorious call ever. I mean the kind of glory where the heavens open up, bright rays of sun shine down, and fat nude cherubs wearing silky white banners descend playing harps and trumpets. It was the airport announcing that our luggage had finally arrived.

Now we could proceed with our most anticipated trip to the Grand Canyon and its environs.

Luckily for us, the rest of the trip went swimmingly. Although we had missed an entire day, we managed to make do with the rest of our time and have an excellent time.