Bad Romance

1243: I hate it when I get a sandwich from Subway and I say, “just a little lettuce,” and they give me enough to feed a family of 15 rabbits.

Well, I’m still in Rochester. My flight was supposed to leave 3 hours ago. As soon as every passenger boarded and sat down, the pilot came on the overhead speaker to tell us that a wing had fallen off or something else terrible, I don’t really remember. Once maintenance said it’d take over an hour to fix, we all got booted from our seats and were forced to make new travel arrangements. It’s been two hours since I got my new flight assignment, and I still have another two and a half till we leave.

I don’t know what the Gods of flight have against me. I seriously cannot fly anywhere without some sort of incident or snafu to hold me up. Either my bags get lost or my flight gets delayed causing me to miss my connection, or parts of the plane are internally combusting thus rendering the aircraft unsafe for flight. It hardly seems fair. I’ve dealt with my share of this crap. I am getting paid to travel on a Sunday, at an additional 15% of my normal rate, which is totally tits, but to be perfectly honest, I’d rather not get paid and have a clean flight plan for once than have to waste an entire day in an airport.

It stopped snowing, at least there’s that. Yeah, you read that right. Snow on May 9th. I didn’t think I had moved to Greenland, but apparently Mother Nature wanted to play games with us.

Bollocks…still two hours to go. What to do? I don’t have much to write about at the present time, but I don’t want to shut the computer off because the sound on the TV at JW Dundee’s Pub & Alehouse isn’t on, not like I really wanted to listen to 101 Dalmatians anyway. Oh hey, this guy sitting here likes sports. Maybe I’ll talk to him.

Signing out…I’ll check back in later.

1920: Reached Atlanta. This airport is love. While I was away, Dallas Brayden threw a perfect game for the Oakland A’s. Congratulations to him. He lost his mother to cancer when he was a senior in high school, so doing it on Mother’s Day must be nice for him. Also, now he can tell Alex Rodriguez to gargle his balls, and A-Rod will pretty much have to oblige.

I’m kinda hidden in this charging dock, and I attribute that to why I haven’t fallen in love with a girl at the airport yet. Not really love, of course, but I have a running joke with a few of my friends that there’s always a gorgeous girl at my gate who looks marriage-worthy. Of course, we normally don’t speak and part ways at the conclusion of the flight, but the connection is still there. Even if she doesn’t know it.

Jesus, I just realized that I am a total tool of social media. The only Internet Explorer windows I have open belong to Facebook and Twitter. I’m recording every thought in my head into this blog. And my Android phone to my right is currently logged into AIM and Yahoo! simultaneously. Like I said in my first post though, I’m a nerd. I’m happy with that. I did, however, just realize that I’m not wearing my standard airport Return of the Jedi t-shirt that all the chicks go for. Hmm. Maybe that’s why I haven’t fallen in love in Atlanta yet...?

Let’s see, random thoughts to end this… Happy 26th birthday to Cameron Wicks, one of my best friends since 2002. The Checkers BBQ cheeseburger and Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips are still at the top of their respective food categories. The Phillies won today. I’m a little cold, and would very much like to go to sleep.

I’m gonna go walk around and try to find the next ex-once-we-get-to-Indianapolis-Mrs. Andrew Cairns.