At least I didn't shut down an airport this time as I have done THREE TIMES IN THE PAST. Argh. The little gate dude came on the speaker at 9:05 p.m. and said the plane had just left San Antonio and would arrive in Chicago for approximate departure at 9:50. No freaking way. What was it? The fucking Concorde? A little while later he said he had "received some bad information" (ya think?) and our plane was actually almost to Chicago. WTF, man? Pulled into my driveway at about 12:45 a.m., took a shower to wash off the stink of other people's burps and farts (planes are nasty) and promptly fell face-first into bed. Yum.
1 comment:
Grrllll....We need to SOOOOOO have those drinks.
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