My day began at 5AM Monday morning, 9PM PST on Sunday. I felt really sad about leaving, but all great things must come to an end, or at least an intermission. I'll be back though. I keep feeling drawn back and I know its only a matter of time before we meet again. I won't miss the cold though... thats for sure.
After a 9 hour flight to Dallas/Fort Worth, I found myself waiting around the luggage carousel with other weary passengers. It was just my luck that my suitcase was (or at least appeared to be... perhaps I wasn't paying enough attention) the last one off the plane. I'm not sure who schedules the connecting flights, but whoever scheduled mine must hate me.
The line for customs was ridiculously long. When I finally made it through, I had 15 minutes until my plane to SFO took off. I ran to the airbus and then to the next terminal, but to my dismay had to wait in another security line. Screwed. Thats the only word that came to mind.
At least I wasn't alone as I sprinted towards my gate. Another couple was experiencing the same fate. The flight was closed. Panting, coughing, and cursing, I felt like crying. I was tired, I was sick, I was sweaty, and I was in desperate need of a shower; I just wanted to go home.
I guess the airline person must have felt an enormous amount of pity for me. As I boarded the next flight to SFO (2 hours later), I found myself in first class. Nothing like some booze and chocolate ice cream to cheer this girl up.
26 hours after I woke up. I finally was able to crawl into my own bed. I'm home at last.
1 comment:
Oh, you're so lucky that you got on the next flight and were in first class! My flight from Houston to SFO in coach was hell.
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