Hashtag 'Merica
Well, its been a while.
Oddly enough there hasn't been many moments that I thought "Yeah, so that just happened”….Well you know only except my ENTIRE trip back to the States.
Let's see what started off this fiesta??? Oh right, I almost got on the wrong plane...See what had happened was…I saw my boarding zone (zone 2) and I had just assumed that it meant my gate. (WRONGO, lucky for me there were a total of 5 gates .. and I could spit from one end of the airport to the other).
Then, (after having a small panic attack...and thanking the Lord I corrected my mistake quickly) I gave my ticket to the gate keeper. He had ripped my ticket and handed me back this little baby scrap of paper. (I thought it was odd.. but I didn't question the man..I mean he doesn't tell me how to change diapers or misuse commas.) So I smiled and I hopped onto my plane. With my ticket in my hand I began searching for my seat (28D). As the line slowly shuffled toward the rear of the plane I (my sad sad little dyslexic self) kept repeating 28D over and over in my head (with hopes not to mix it up or forget it). Once I got further to the back I quickly realized we were running out of seats and there would be in no way, shape, or form a “28D”. After I reached the very last seat I read the number and it said 26D. A tad annoyed (mostly, at myself because I knew this was an error on my part) I sighed and pulled out my ticket. Then to my amazement my ticket did IN FACT say 28D. Then, REALLY confused (Imagine ME confused?….no, NEVER.) I sorta stood there saying uhhhhhhhhhhh??….. Until the flight attendant said “Excuse me Miss is there something I can help you with?”. I looked at him and laughed to myself because I had a feeling (way deep down) that this was still entirely MY fault. I said “yep, my seat says 28D and…” Then he cut me off mid-sentance and said “Oh no, that IS impossible” And as we both stood in front of the last seat (26D) I wanted to say “REALLY??" But then I just thought silently to myself "bless his heart" and I smiled as he took my ticket. Then, a man with (a fantastic and clearly American sense of humor) was like “oh yeah that seats on the wing of the plane” I laughed and said “Glad I didn’t do my hair today”. Then the flight attendent (who didn’t find our humor too humorous) looked at me with a blank stare and said, “This is the wrong ticket, this is for your NEXT flight”. Well at this point I had lost it. (My blondness hurts my soul sometimes.) I started laughing out loud. (yep, a real true honest LOL…BAHAHA! Oh gosh, "Bless MY heart"). I then replied to Him, Mr. funny guy, and the whole back of the plane that there was nothing to fear because we had found my seat (It was on that baby piece of scrap paper the gate keeper gave me. Hey, thanks man. How about a heads up next time.) I told them that I knew they were all worried but that they could now relax and enjoy the rest of their flight.
As, I took my seat I sat next to a man, who seemed pretty cool, at first… UNTIL… He took OFF his shoes, sat crisscrossed, and proceeded to massage his feet. (Yep, that was my cue to go to sleep...zzzzzzzzzz).
Finally, I had landed in the good ol’ U.S. of A. I was so excited to get off that plane I almost started running (Until I remembered thats exercise and I’m sort of morally apposed to it). As I got off my flight the CUTEST old couple started to follow me. I glanced back at them and thought how cute are they? So American in their trousers and button downs and flappy hats. Then, the little old lady leaned over to her husband (while speaking in a tone that indicated one of them had a hearing problem) said, “Oh, I need to find a Potty…I think it’s safe to take off the diaper now don’t you?” yep, sounds like ‘Merica to me. Home at last.
......Yep, so THAT happened.
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