The longer I walk with the Lord, the more I figure out that
there are truly laws that govern our
world. Like: (1) love does conquer all, (2) life and death is in the power of the tongue, (3) grace
is undeniable, and (4) I cannot travel by myself without a ridiculous story
coming out of the experience.
For example, remember when I flew back from Rome a month
ago, and that guy died on my flight, and there was the racist woman yelling
slurs and crying hysterically? Or… when I was sixteen flying back from Hilton
Head by myself, and the pervert businessman next to me had his hands down his
pants and the newspaper folded over his lap and making creepy noises? Or how
about the time I was fourteen and wedged between two enormous, sweaty,
intoxicated Italian men (who I still maintain were in the mafia).
…you get the point… Tiffany flying solo= WEIRD THINGS
HAPPENING.
Well, Thursday I flew from Minnesota back to Orange County.
I said bye to my puppy, cried a fair amount of the way to the airport, said bye
to mom at security, and got on my merry way. I arrived an hour early to my gate
as usual, so I made my way over to the bar next to my gate. I haven’t been
sitting there five minutes when a handsome, young guy–named Kevin–seats
himself down next to me and offers to buy my drink. Yes, please! (Why do I meet
men at weird places, like in February at the doctor’s office with my puffer
fish lips?). We talk, get our drinks, exchange phone numbers.
We get on our same flight. I sit down as usual. But the
plane sits too. And I continue to sit on the sitting plane for an hour. Announcement: the
cargo door won’t shut. We can’t leave. We’re waiting for the engineer. An
hour and a half after our alleged take-off time, we deplane plane #1.
Fifteen minutes into our waiting in the terminal, Announcement:
The plane that we were planning on
putting you all on instead is also having technical difficulties. Hang tight in
the terminal until we find another plane. So, next week’s dinner date with Kevin in Orange County was
bumped up as we helped ourselves to some dinner, and he got to attractively
watch me spill tomato basil soup on my white shirt as I awkwardly stared at his
fantastic, curly hair.
Announcement: We have
a plane ready! Two terminals away in E9. Enter stampede of people across
one of the world’s biggest airports. We re-plane in our same seats, we are told
the doors are closed and ready, but de ja vouz! We continue to sit, and sit.
That’s right, folks. Plane #3 is having technical difficulties too.
Cue another forty-five minutes of sitting. And so, about the
time I was scheduled to land, we pull out of the gate and head towards the
runway, take off., and are on our way. Life’s peachy, right?
Oh, wait. Two and a half hours into the flight, de ja vouz
to Rome flight. It’s dark on the plane. All the lights turn on instantaneously.
Announcement: If there are any doctors,
EMTs, nurses on board, would you please make your way to first class? (Cue
people popping their heads above chairs to sneak a peak, people standing in the
aisles hoping to catch a glimpse of the drama before the first class curtains
were shut.
We’re still in
the air right now. I don’t think anyone died this time, but I cannot say that
with certainty at this time…
…Oh, and Great
news, y’all: I have at least two or three solo flights to make before 2012 is
over, so just be on the lookout for more practical applications of natural law
of the universe #4.
