Actually no one ruins my Funday, but it did get delayed.
I woke up Sunday morning around 7am feeling pretty damn chipper considering my alcohol intake over the weekend. Still haven't gotten used to the time change.
I figured everyone else would be passed out for quite awhile, so I strapped on my Sauconys and hit the road. I took a 9 mile tour of Santa Monica and soaked in the scenery. I may have to plant some palm trees near my apartment in Texas.
Upon my return, other party-goers had risen and wanted food, so we went to whole foods. I had already decided I wanted a bagel with peanut butter. Typically being undecided, I beelined for the bakery section to prevent any decision changes and resulting anxiety over to many choices.
Besides, the salad bar kind of freaks me out. Don't get me wrong, it's all delicious, but I like those divided plates where you can prevent your food from touching. I finally got over the eating my food one section at a time, but I still have a major problem with the watermelon juice from my fruit salad dousing my baked potato.
Anyway, I find this neat little squeeze packet of honey peanut butter so I don't have to buy a whole jar, and go to grab my bagel. Why can't just just have tongs? I had to use the little bakery tissue to pick up my bagel which resulted in it slipping out of my hand and bouncing onto the floor.
I didn't want to spring the $2 for the dropped bagel and a new one, so I played the 3 second rule.
People were probably appalled. Or maybe it was because I was eating my bagel in line before I even paid for it. Whatever, I like instant gratification.
The peanut butter was so tasty that I used my teeth to scrape all of it to the end of the packet. Gotta get ever morsel. Too bad I didn't notice I had peanut butter all over my face until I got to the airport. I'm very classy.
Speaking of the airport, I arrived around 11 for my 12 o clock flight. Of course LAX is a total CF. Should have gotten there 30 minutes earlier. Check my bag, head up to security, and have a nice little chat with mom in the process.
Buy a couple of magazines and a water (because that 1 hour flight is too long to entertain myself) and go use the bathroom. Head to terminal 46B and get there about 11:45. I'm looking around wondering if the flight is delayed because no one is boarding and the attendants are no where to be found.
5 minutes later, attendant shows up, tells me and 6 other people the FLIGHT IS CLOSED.
WTF American Airlines?!
I was checked in!
You did the final boarding call before 11:45?
As the bitch tells us we missed our flight, a man and his son come tearing down the terminal to 48A next to us. They make it onto their 11:50am flight to Vegas.
But sorry, we miss the 12pm.
I'm the awkward girl about to cry as I see the boarding arm pull away from my plane, confirming that I did indeed just miss my flight for the first time.
Get on stand by for 2:20.
I had 2 hours. Would have been a good time to blog or post pictures from the weekend, but apparently LAX can't waste energy by putting outlets in the airport. I walked through 12 gates before I realized it would be a cold day in hell before I got to charge my laptop in this airport.
So I did what any red blooded American would do when you are bored and trapped.
I got a bag of potato chips and planted my ass in a 3 seat bench with my carry-on to my left and my jacket to the right so no one would try to approach and sit by me.
I probably would have attacked them if they tried.
1:50 rolls around and the flight begins boarding.
I see various people from the flight before milling around looking just as miserable as me.
3 people get let on from standby.
The attendants disappear and then come back out, shaking their heads.
"Uh, hello! Could you please let me know what's going on? I'm from Dallas and at MY airport they don't take 10 fucking hours to let people through security, so I have never missed a flight before. Please advise."
2 more people are let on from stand by.
Crying korean baby is no longer cute and almost gets my fist in its face.
I realize it's 2:10 and I'm still No. 6 on the stand by list.
Text my friend Cameron to let her know that my ife is over and I won't be on this flight either.
Next one is at 5 pm. Will try again.
Then I let my eyes well up as I enter my very own pity party.
It's my party and I'll cry if I want to comes ont he loud speaker and the cast of GLEE does a dance as I sulk in my misery.
Okay, that didn't happen.
Actually people 1, 2, and 3 don't come to the ticket counter to get their boarding passes and #4 gets on.
Flight attendant once again disappears.
2:17 ticks by.
She reappears. Suddenly, her eyes lock on mine. "Ms. Standerfer?"
I spring to my feet and my go-go-gadget arm shoots to the ticket counter to grab my new boarding pass (still warm) from her hands, holding it is a death grip.
I'm the last one on the flight! I can make it to play in the bay after all!
Hooray, hooray!
And good thing I missed my 1pm flight, because otherwise I couldn't have had the stimulating (re: I don't care let me read my magazine) conversation with the steward. He was really a catch. After telling me I shouldn't drink tomato juice while flying because the sodium will bloat me, he gave me a napkin with his email address on it.
He wants to buy me drinks in exchange for being his DFW tour guide next time he is in town. Sounds like speculative prostitution to me. I will most definitely not be cyber-connecting with you, sir.
Better or worse: over-zealous steward or old british lady hacking up a lung ever 5 minutes sitting next to me?
Finally arrive at SFO. Memories of my 6 hour delay from september loom and I have to swallow the bitter juice and remember that I have friends and a beer waiting for me! Head to baggage service to explain that my bag made the 12pm flight, but I didn't.
The following conversation ensued:
"Next customer, please"
"Hi, I was on the 2:20 flight but my bag was on 12pm. I checked it in plenty of time, but with security I ended up missing my flight"
"No, your bag will be at carousel 11. We've had many bags arriving late today, and if you missed your flight it will be on there."
(Go survey the bags for 5 minutes)
"Are those all of the bags from LAX? I'm almost positive my bag was on the earlier flight. Could you just check?"
[woman walks out with me and proceeds to point to every bag saying 'is this your bag?' 'is this your bag?' what does it look like? 'is this one your bag?']
Do I look blind?
Or maybe stupid?
If that was my bag, I would have picked it up and been halfway to the city by now.
"Um no, none of these are my bags. That's why I came back inside. I have checked them all twice."
"Huh. Well, Uh-oh"
At this point, I panicked. Why did she say uh-oh?
Immense and unnecessary stress is causing a panic attack.
"CAN YOU PLEASE JUST CHECK THE BAGS FROM THE 12pm??"
She goes back into the customer service room and rummages around in the back. Oh, fancy that, she found my bag in 2 minutes. Relief.
Okay, now on to the air train to get to the BART.
Call my mom to tell her I have arrived and miss my stop. Realize it when I get to the Rental Car section.
Ride air train back towards the airport, get off the red line onto the blue line, and finally get to the BART stations so I can get to the city.
After staking my claim for most of the ride, I give up my seat to a little old woman and man. I know I know, I'm so nice. Don't get your hopes up, I was annoyed I had to do it, I just felt guilty.
My phone is almost dead by the time I arrive at my stop. Last time I visited San Francisco it was completely dead and my friends had to come searching for me. Like an Easter egg hunt! But not funny, without candy, and in a smelly subway station instead of a grassy field.
But I found my ride, proceeded straight to the Tipsy Pig and let my Stella calm me down.
Dinner followed and we headed over to some of their guy friends' place to catch the end of Manday.
Football, beer, and cooking out. I like the ring it has. Will be instilling this new name in Dallas.
After that it was a quick hello to one more mutual friend and then bed time.
I slept like a baby.
Most likely because I had acted like one all day.
Peter Pan had the right idea to stay young forever.
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