It’s well known among my friends that I’m pretty much the unluckiest person on the planet when it comes to most everything except women. However, that one exception keeps a lot of my friends from being sympathetic to my plight, yet I will always insist that, on balance, I’m generally worse off than all of them. Not wanting to deviate much from my destiny and NorthWest apparently looking to further cement themselves at the bottom of my list of ways to travel (somewhere between running and riding a camel), my bad luck with this wedding trip continued. My flight out of Orlando was delayed a full two hours, which, I was told, was likely going to cause me to miss my connection to San Jose in Minneapolis. Fortunately, I made it to Minneapolis on time, but only to be delayed yet again, this time for slightly more than two hours, with most of that time spent on the tarmac. If anyone is keeping score, we have one missed flight due to a mobile phone bug (which cost me $500 on top of my round-trip ticket), a delayed flight, a cancelled flight, another delayed flight, and finally, one more delayed flight. Oh, and two, nearly 24-hour days spent flying, driving, and complaining.
To add insult to injury I left my PowerBook power supply in Florida and so I had to ration my computer time carefully throughout the day. As usual though, when I did manage to brave the malfunctioning heating pad that is a PowerBook on your lap, someone sitting next to me struck up a conversation about Apple and I, of course, being the pundit that I am, did my thing. Not too long after we started warming up to each other she started to complain about NorthWest (her flight to Seattle was already an hour late), and so we began to trade war stories. Next, I did what any self-respecting computer dork would do; I used my mobile phone to connect to the net over Bluetooth and had her read my previous post. She said, You win.
As if there was ever any doubt, her story only reinforced my disdain for the airline and we both vowed to never fly them again.
That, however, was not the biggest lesson learned on this trip. No, the biggest lesson learned was that ignorance truly is bliss. This lesson came from the old, bat-shit crazy (think Tom Cruise) lady sitting behind me in the terminal who was convinced that she had done her part to save humanity because she had given $25,000 to a destitute mystic who is single-handedly keeping California afloat using a series of atomic bubbles placed strategically throughout the state. She swore to the poor guy who got caught up in her pipe dreams that all of the news people knew about it but didn’t want the public to know, because, well, they would obviously try to pop the bubbles and sink the state. What? Yah.
When I’m old I’m going to make up the craziest, weirdest shit ever, just to see what lengths people will go to humor me.