Such. A. Bonehead.
It was like a scene from a movie. It was Monday morning and we hopped in the taxi to go to the airport. “You want to check and make extra-special sure we have the tickets?” I joked to the Snook. He got them out and had a look. “Uh, something’s wrong,” he said. He handed the itinerary up to me. I looked at our flight time, nope, all good there. Then the day: SUNDAY. As in: 24 hours previously. “WHAT? This has to be a mistake.” No, my friends, we friggin’ got the date wrong. I wish I were making this up. I hyperventilated all the way to the airport where we frantically called our travel agent Nick. I also found an Internet terminal and was able to trace down the mistake. We’d originally planned to go on the Monday and Nick had e-mailed through the itinerary. Then when we’d actually gone in to pay for the tickets, we discovered availability to leave the previous day. So we switched it. When I made my super-duper anal Google spreadsheet of all the trip details, though, I unthinkingly based it off the original e-mail. Hence, we ended up at the airport 24 hours after our flight had left.
I’ve got nothing but great things to say about Nick at Flight Centre and David at Qantas, though. The two of them were able to switch around our tickets (at, yeah, a not inconsiderable cost) and get us on the Monday flight. We also had to spend about seven hours hanging around San Francisco airport yesterday. But we’re here and everything’s okay. We made it.
Be sure to always check your paper tickets, kids.