I'm convinced DC Airport has it out for me. My previous post written in DC lead to the next chain of unforgettable events. I met Old Man Joe who asked Nashville Paul in a crowded shuttle, "she's perty aint she?" Paul, unsure of how to respond to this, answers back politely with an uncomfortable "yes she sure is." Joe was convinced me and Nashville Paul were destined to be together. Joe bought the first round, told us about his own love life, and was determined for Paul and I to date.
Once Joe went to the restroom, Paul (who hadn't said hardly anything at this
point) leans in to me and says "how the hell do you know that guy?" I
gave him the look of "areyoukiddingmeIthoughthewaswithyou." We both
started laughing hysterically and decided to go along listening to Joe talk about his wife who is 20 years younger than he and can "go all night." Paul and I never did exchange numbers.
Five hours after I left DC, a huge storm came through with 95mph gusts, killing 10 people, leaving millions without electricity for the weekend. I felt extremely blessed to make it to Nashville safely, spending the rest of the weekend in the a/c, jamming to 80's Cardio in the jeep, stuffing my face with Ana's burritos, laughing at Me Monsters, spending afternoons in the kidsoupurineinfestedpool (no help from me), a day at Lucy's spa getting a mani/pedi, and snuggling up to two munchkins, catching up on all the kid movies I've missed in the last two years.
Not one of my 6 flights had gone smoothly this week so I was prepared for anything when I got to the Nashville airport. Sure enough, I get to the counter and the man looks at me and says, "I'm sorry your reservation does not exist." Now, right about now, any normal person would probably break down in tears, maybe tell the guy what an idiot he is, or hell maybe throw a full blown temper tantrum. Noooo not me... my response to that sweet young man behind the counter was "HA!" I mean COME ON. Really?
He spent a good 10 seconds just looking at me... my mess of curly hair, in the same long skirt and green shirt I'd been wearing all week, bare feet, neon green painted nails (thanks to 8 year old Lucy), laughing at myself and the thought of my non existence. He gave his head one quick shake to snap out of his disgust with me, the crazy hippie girl, on the other side of the counter, and sent me on my merry way (I was still laughing at this point).
Finally, I got to my gate. What's that? Delayed you say? Oh joy... I'll write a blog.
After an hour, we get on the plane and mind you, it's 108 degrees outside. After about an hour on the runway with no a/c on, my light green shirt has turned into a wet, hunter green rag. I was now having a serious debate with God; "Sooo, hey God, is this a sign? Because if it is, you should probably tell me now and I'll never travel on a plane again." Over the loud speaker I hear, "we're having weight issues on the plane due to weather and we're asking two people to get off the plane." Hm...
I looked over to my right and see two men, easily weighing 250lb each. The one across from me on the isle can see the look in my eyes of "yep I'm getting the hell off this plane." Before I could stand up, two people in the back (the complainer type from my previous blog), came running to the front to volunteer. Not that I could stand up anyway, because my skirt was so sweaty, I was stuck to the seat. Before they departed, the women blurted out "United sucks!" Thanks idiots, we were wondering...
Bubba gave me a shrug and looked to his friend, Bubba #2 and said "man, you bigga than all of us in hee-ya, you shoulda run off" Bubba #2 responds, "yup and the good lawd done blessed his servant. He gave me the back seat to myself thanks to them babblin folk!" Wow. I love the south.
We made it to Houston airport 2 hours late, but luckily my flight to orange county was also late so I sprinted to the gate and barely made it. Perfect, I was sweating again. They were overbooked and were asking for volunteers to stay over for one night to catch the next flight in the morning. Pretending not to hear, I ordered a vodka/soda and a cheeseburger and I curled up to my window seat, watched the sunset beneath me, and dozed off listening to Eckhart Tolle's "The Power of Now."
As my eyes were closing, Eckhart came through my headphones to remind me of this:
"You are here to enable the divine purpose of the universe to unfold. That is how important you are."
Of course I am. But does it have to be in an airport?
