This past weekend, I was traveling.  Or at least I was supposed to be.  The plan was that I would go to the airport on Saturday, hop on a plane, change planes in a crazy-ass airport, then be home.  But, in my world, things don’t usually go as planned.  So in all actuality? I should have expected this.  But I naively thought Hey! This is a piece of cake! I do this all the time. Sigh. Stupid, stupid girl.
    
      So, I got to the airport Saturday afternoon, an hour drive by the way. I said goodbye to my dad, and lugged my 40-something pound duffel bag  and 20-something pound backpack  into the airport.  (Momentary backtrack) On the way to the airport, my dad had stopped to get us drinks.  Since I am five and not actually 23, I got a chocolate milkshake and a water; both of which I finished before reaching the airport. By the time I got to the airport I had to pee so bad! (Continuing) I lugged my bags up to the desk hoping for a quick check in. 
  
    “Where are you going?”
    “Umm, Nashville, but I don’t remember where my layover is”
    “Can I see your ID?”
I handed her my ID, and continued hoping this process would be over soon. In the mean time, I put my bag on the scale. 
    “Your flight has been delayed and you won’t make your layover flight.”  says the woman so matter-of-factly.
    “What? Seriously? You are joking right?”
    “No.” she says in that fake apologetic voice “Let me see if I can find you another flight.”

Awesome, just fucking awesome.  What am I going to do
.

By this point, I REALLY had to pee.  I started doing the pee dance.  No joke.  Standing there at the counter in the airport, in front of the lady and a bunch of other people, I was bouncing from on leg to the other, crossing my legs, doing whatever it took to keep the urine from flowing out.
    
    “I have to pee SO bad!” I frantically blurted out

I know I saw smiles escape from a few people.  Assholes.  Smiling about my dire need to urinate.  Glad I could amuse you.  I am glad I am a source of entertainment for you.
      
    “You can go right around the corner and use the bathroom if you would like.  This will probably take a few more minutes.” 
    “Thank you SO much.”

I toss my backpack on top of my check in bag and head to the bathroom, walking quickly yet trying to keep my legs together.  After finally getting to relieve myself, I head back to the desk.
      
    “Well, unfortunately it looks like there are no other flights going out tonight.  I tried to get you in at the hotel next door, but they are full.  I’m sorry.  We can get you on a flight for tomorrow though possibly.  Although they look pretty full. ”  She says not seeming very sorry at all.

Are you fucking kidding me?! What the hell am I supposed to do now! My dad is at least 20 minutes away by now and you are finally telling me this!!!
  
That is what I wanted to say. 
Instead I replied:
   
    “Ok, well, let’s see if I can get a flight for tomorrow.”

She got me a flight for the next day.  I made a slew of phone calls.  My dad came back and got me, and we all went on with our lives.  Until the next day….

On Sunday, I checked the flight status 78 million times (only a slight exaggeration). The flight was on time, everything would be great.  Things would go a lot better this time.  As a bonus? I didn’t have to pee as bad this time!  I got to the airport about 50 minutes before my flight was due to take off.  I once again lugged my bags into the airport, and low and behold the line was probably 25 people long.  I waited and waited, then I got up to the desk and attempted to check in.
   
    “I am sorry, you are too late to check in. You will have to step aside and find another flight.”

What. The. Fuck.     

I was pissed and I flipped out a little.
    
    “Are you kidding me? Ok, I got here 50 minutes before my flight because normally I have no issues.  But you seemed to have a never-ending line.  People were probably climbing out of other people’s luggage to stand in line!  Now, you are telling me i am too late?!
    “Yes, I am sorry”
    “No, no, this is not happening.  I was supposed to leave YESTERDAY! But, my flight was delayed and I wouldn’t have made my layover flight.  Now, I can’t take my flight today? Really?”
    “Oh, you were supposed to leave yesterday? Well let me see what I can do for you.”

Once again, I stood there for a good 10 minutes waiting.
    
    “Well, I think I found you a flight with US Air.  You have to go to the next terminal.  It is just up the stairs.  I am not positive if they have a seat, but I think they do.  If not? Just come back.” 
    “So it is just upstairs?”
    “Yes.  Just go up the escalator and follow the signs.”
     “Ok, thank you.”

I pick up my 40-something pound bag and my 20-something pound backpack and head on my way.  I go up the escalator, down a hallway, down another hallway, down a super long hallway with a broken walking sidewalk, and end up in the parking garage where I nearly get hit by a car.

What. The. Fuck.

I finally get to a set of doors and walk down yet another hall.  Then I finally end up at the counter.
   
    “I am having a day from hell.  Please tell me you can help me.”

I went through the story of the day before and then told the man about the current happenings. 
   
    “Ok, well it looks like that flight won’t work, ButIalreadygotyouonanotherone.” He blurted out as one word.  I think he knew how pissed I was.

The flight seemed simple enough, I didn’t even have to change planes. I got to security and went through.  Although, my right leg had to be patted down.  I forgot I had a quarter in my pocket.  I still had a couple of hours before my flight, so I got lunch and coffee etc. Around the time that my flight was supposed to take off I went over to the gate.  There, I found out my flight wasn’t leaving for another hour, but the layover would still be fine.  An hour and a half later, we were finally allowed to board the plane. Five minutes after that I was finally able to get on the plane.  First they had to get me a new seat because somehow my reservation had been cancelled.  Nice.  I finally got to Charlotte with no other problems.  Then they told those of us going on to Nashville that we had to get off of the plane. I got out and went to gate counter.
    
    “What is going on? I thought this plane was going to Nashville.”
    “Nope, this plane is going to DC. The plane to Nashville left a while ago.”

What. The. Fuck.

At this point I started to cry.  I walked over to the service counter in tears. By this point I was exhausted and had no desire to spend the night in the Charlotte airport.  When it was finally my turn in line I explained to the woman what had happened.

    “Well, you are in luck.  There is a plane to Nashville, but it is boarding now and it is two concourses away. I will call a cart for you and have them come pick you up. ”
    “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

I quickly pulled myself together The cart came and brought me to the right gate. I hopped on the plane and was finally headed to Nashville.  My only concern now was where my 40-something pound bag would end up.  Lucky for me, when I got to Nashville, my bag did too!  The handle was broken, but it made it!  Getting home was a piece of cake; except for almost dying when swerving to not hit a deer.

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