So maybe my luck is changing. I have long-chronicled my luck as being, well, rather poor. Specifically with travel. My first time to see Ash, it *snowed* in Las Vegas. Not to mention the blizzards they were getting up in Reno. When she came out to Virginia, it was 95 and extremely humid. Plus there were delays, etc. Now, before even coming out to Reno, two things were happening. 1) Tahoe was on fire. 2) The day I arrive, the temperature was set to jump over 100. Well, it did set a record yesterday at 106, and it’s supposed to be hotter today.
Not only this, but I had my flight change a few times, and it ended up with me having a 27-minute layover in Tennessee, which I was NOT looking forward to.
So how is my luck changing? Fenk let me crash with him, a nice gesture. Some wine later, we all crashed around 2:45am. My flight was at 6:29am, so I set my alarm for 4:02am. This would allow plenty of buffer time, what with London blowing up and so forth. So I crash for my hour and a half of sleep. I wake up, not to my alarm, but just because I woke up, and the clock read 5:50. As in 39 minutes before my flight LEAVES!
I pee and, having not changed, literally run out of the house down the street. I was planning on calling a car service, but there wouldn’t be time. I tried to flag a taxi, but he was full. Suddenly, a service car (not a taxi) pulls up and tells me to get in. Surreal. I tell him to get me to the airport as fast as he feasibly can, please speed. He gets me there in about 8 minutes (Laguardia, and Fenk lives in Queens). I run inside and there is no line (thankfully). The NWA representative (no, not Ice Cube) very slowly calls the desk to see if it’s even worth me running to get the plane. She tries THREE times. I’m thinking, “Just let me run and hope!” She checks me in and says they’ll have my bording passes there, but I need to run. So I run, very tired and with two super-heavy bags.
As I am boarding (the last person to board), some woman runs up to me, “Is this yours?” My license had fallen out of my hands. Thankfully, she brought it back. Good karma to her.
So I hit the plane as the last person, and they take off. Now I have two hours before I have to worry about my 27 minute layover. To cut this exposition short, that was NO problem. I actually was in my plane 15 minutes before it took off. No issue there.
I get into LAX with almost two hours’ layover. So I re-go through security, get some lunch (mmmm, double bacon cheeseburger) and change my clothes. I have time to kill. I read some books, text some people. At a half hour until my flight leaves, I go for my boarding pass. Gone. Same with my license (again). I mentally retrace my steps and remember I left it at security while I was putting on my shoes. I go back, and a very aged man delicately (read: slowly) goes over to a room to get a key. He can’t get the lock open. They both ARE in there (thankfully again), and he methodically writes my drivers license and has me sign for them. I go back to my gate, and they’re announcing my name over the loud-speaker. That can’t be good.
They are on final boarding there! D’oh! I get on (again, last person) and find my seat next to this lovely young college girl with a thoroughly unpronounceable name. We chatted the whole time until I landed, seeing Gene Simmons get up and unboard the plane. If I wasn’t so rushed, I might have noticed him as soon as I boarded, as he was the first one on.
Anyway, I’m in Reno, sweating off my increasing body fat. We went to a large outdoor festival type thing, which was characterized by not having real food and a poor turnout. But it’s all good. I’m with Ashley, and that’s why I’m here.