ehowton (ehowton) wrote,

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Beltway Blues

Four hours of sleep. 20 minutes of waiting for the 'next shuttle' which did not immediately arrive, and about 30 very long seconds (fully one half a minute you understand) of a gentleman who had just boarded not remembering which bag was his when it was time to disembark approximately 5 minutes later.

These delays caused me to miss my flight. Surprise, surprise. My mother would have told me, "Make sure you allow plenty of time," or something to that effect. I myself have been known to dole out that same advice to others. Other usually younger, less motivated and generally more slovenly in their appearance than I. But I digress.

My time is very valuable. My bill rate is astronomical. How I spend my personal time is even more important to me, because of my children. How much "time" am I supposed to "allow" for reaching my destination in a timely manner? How can one account for every cud-chewing meatbag with a 5-minute thought retention issue? Incalculable.

Needless to say, I was very angry that I missed my flight. After all, I didn't allow myself enough time. Next flight was two and a half hours later, and full. As it was my only option, I booked stand-by and stood in the cattle pens, awaiting the proverbial slaughter via TSA Security Checkpoint inefficiency. Yes, I laced my toothpaste with a liquid explosive I'll mix-up in the lavatory sink and detonate with the fuse in the heel of my boot. Praise be Allah. They should reinstate racial profiling instead of jacking up WWII vets who have metal pins in their hips. Grrrrr.

At any rate, I mosey to my gate and follow some random guy to the desk. He asks if he can still get on the plane. Turns out, it was so empty, they almost canceled the flight but the door was already closed and if you've already checked baggage, it would show up on the later plane. I interrupted, handed her my boarding pass, while she called the plane. "RUN!" she yells at me. I did. They opened the door and I made my flight. That was the easy part. The hard part was navigating the ever-changing roads and exit in downtown straight out of a bad horror movie where the house/maze garden/tunnels supernaturally modify their walls/hedges/routes.

Eventually though, everything worked out, and our first day was a rousing success.
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