Always travel with extra underwear (on your person). ALWAYS.
If you have not been a lucky one to recieve one of my "Leimails," here is a gift for you. This is my most recent Leimail that I sent from the ground of the Atlanta airport at 3:00 A.M. in the morning.
I wish there was a way to make sure badly behaved people get what they deserve. What is she rambling on about this time? You may ask yourself. Well, if you notice the time, you will see that it is really late/early and I am not drunk/at the goldmine/ watching the freakin royal wedding/ dancing on the pool table at f and ms/ or drinking tequila sunrises at the sae house as the sun comes up on mardi gras day. No, I am not doing any of these things. I am simply at the Atlanta airport. Still. Going on hour 8 here.
So.... The purpose of this email? To try to figure out a way to produce instant karma.... And to get the cinnabon place to open early (but I think I have a better chance with the instant karma thing). Maybe I will just sit outside of their airport hut and whine like a dachshund. I am sure that will be better than sitting on the ground, against the wall, where there is an outlet, right next to the smokers cancer glass bubble. Oh I mean airport room. Seriously, who smokes at 3 in the morning when they are not at any of the places I listed above?
Anyway, I digress. I will now recount the first half of my travel day from hell. And why just the first half? Because the second half is yet to come.
So I booked a ticket with robin out to San Fran for lianas wedding. (ps it does not really matter if you know who any of these people are). Then about two days after I booked the ticket, the Earl of admission asked if I would go to atlanta for work. Absolutely. Slight problem that I was suppose to be flying to the city of gay hippies (and don't get me wrong- i love both gays and hippies, and even much more so gay hippies- if those exist) the same day, but I figured a twelve hour detour to Atlanta wouldn't hurt. If only I could warn Leila in the past. Don't do it!
So I fly out here, do my thang, yadda yadda yadda.
GOD DAMNIT MYBACK HURTS BHJKFHJKJFJKVKHJFGHKD!!!!!!!!!
Anyway... Get to the airport with plenty of time to make my ten o'clock flight. The flight is a little delayed. I am a little grumpy about it. There is a bad storm rolling into Atlanta. We get on the plane a little late. The flight attendants (NOT stewardesses.... Nicole, you tell your mom I say it right) make an announcement that if we all get seated right away, we can get on the runway and beat the storm of the century out of here.
Apparently other people on my plane did not care as much as I did. They did not sit immediately. Thank you woman with cowboy hat who took about 7 minutes to decide if she wanted to put her hat in the bin above her or wear it on her head. Ultimately, when they cancel our flight and we have to stand in line to rebook, you go to the back. And if you are wondering- she decided to wear the hat on her head. Gotta look good when traveling.
Everyone finally sits down and we get going. We make it out on the runway and they say they have grounded our flight and we will wait for the storm to pass. Wonderful.
This would be all well and good until some little snot nose child starts crying in the back. It keeps going and going. And apparently at some point, the mother decides there is something terribly wrong with her kid, and we have to go back to the gate so she can get off of the plane. This could be a point where you take this shit seriously. I did. Until the mom actually got off of the plane with the kid and the kid looks over her shoulder and gives the back of the plane a loud, cheerful 'byyyyyyyeeeeeee.'
During the commotion of the woman asking to turn the plane around, another woman got her panties in a big wad. Because, you know, in a situation where a lot of people are stressed out and being affected, the best thing to do is to publicly freak the fuck out. Wadded panties woman, back of the line.
We get back to the gate and they announce that we are going to be able to take off soon... But then wait.... Nope. Can't take off now. The pilots have passed their expiration dates and can't not make the flight, because it would put them over their hours. Ok, I appreciate you thinking of our safety. But deep down inside I do wonder if that would have happened if snot nose hadn't pitched a fit, and If we didn't have to come back to the gate. And to be honest, I didn't wonder deep down inside, I wondered it out loud to my temporary line friend.
So we all stand in line for about two hours. My line buddies consist of my new line friend and a Hasidic couple with really bad breath. REALLY bad breath. The Hasidic woman informed us that number one freak out happened because the woman on the plane was on her way to san Francisco to be impregnated, to be a surrogate for her friend. Now I am not sure how much the baby gets from the surrogate, but it did make me wonder why type of condition her friend was in to feel like this woman was her only hope.
Well I am going to go search for a carpeted piece of ground. And wait for the cinnabon place to open. Sweet dreams, a holes! Sorry- that was uncalled for. I am just a little tired.
So, if you are wondering how it ended up... I did make it to San Francisco.... about 14 hours after I wrote this. If you are wondering, I was in the same clothes for about 33 hours. I would forget this until I would get a whif of myself. G-ROSS. Fa-nasty!
I did end up finding a nice little piece of carpet next to a bench in the Atlanta airport. The bench was taken by two other women, so I snuggled down on the ground at the end of it. I hugged my phone, which was on alarm and vibrate, as close to my face as possible. I woke up a few times to wipe the crumbs off of my face and to realize that I had scooted completely underneath the bench.
There was an old man pushing around a dumb squeeky wheely cart for a while when I was writing my Leimail. You could hear him coming 6 gates away. I could hear him moving around during my sleep and around 5:30 in the morning I heard him purusing all of the floor and seat openings at Gate B-FML. (That is B-FuckMyLife if you don't get it). He squeaked his way around the maze of droolers and squeaked right over my god damn hand.
I sat up immedately and tried to wipe the drool and dirt off of my face. I also gave a few lip smacks to try to determine the foulness of my breath. Old Man took a seat directly across from me. I didn't want to take any more chances of loosing any digits to squeaky cart, so I checked my phone to decide what I would do with the new morning. I then realized that Cinnabon was going to open within the half hour and so my day began! Hoo-hah! I'll take 3 to go, please. Yes I would like them warmed up. Yes- all of them- I've got to start my Thursday right!