I, G, G, L, DC, DC… Home. (Part Two)

Why United Sucks More Ass than Enemas ~

I made it to London. I made it on the place. I made it to DC. My cell phone worked again! I called family and friends. “I’ll be home soon!!” I ecstatically screamed. Wooooh! Confetti! Parties! St. Louis! The Arch!
Then. Flight Delayed. One hour. Then. Flight Delayed. Two Hours. Then Flight Cancelled. Sheeeeeiiiittt.

At this point I was getting pretty exhausted. I didn’t really sleep at all on the London flight and was entering that phase of staying up so much that you begin to feel like you’re in a dream. I went to the counter and listened to more people complain and laughed at them before running around Dulles and looking for a cache of blankets and pillows to make a nest for myself. They would only give us a coupon for a hotel and I didn’t really feel like shelling out 60 bucks for a hotel bed. I made some more calls and then brushed my teeth before heading to my nest of chairs and blankets. As I walked out of the bathroom I saw this smaller sized man jogging down the massive airport halls towards me. He asked if I was the kid that had been traveling for 3 days. I were. He said most heroically, “Follow me”. I followed him to a 2nd customer service desk 20 gates away (about half a mile). Upon arriving I met the happiest ladies I’ve ever met in any sort of customer service arena. This bigger black woman and smaller asian woman were laughing and hooking up me and the smaller man (and his wife) breaking all sorts of United policies and BS. I fell asleep in a chair behind the desk as they were working actively trying to get me home. 

What happened: They gave us a voucher for a taxi ride to Reagan Airport and booked us on American Airlines flights. I fell asleep in the taxi on the one hour ride as well. Got to Reagan. Fell asleep on the floor outside the security checkpoint. Woke up at 5 a.m. went thru security. Fell asleep at the gate. Boom. Crack. Chickachick. (Snatch-like travel scene) St. Louis. Thank you Jesus.

But of course… my bags were lost. Ah eff it, take me home to BRL!
The next few hours until 7 p.m. were a blitz of shower, driving 100 miles, jumping in the river, drink bud light, eating fatty foods, and promptly passing out. I woke up the next morning at 7 a.m. And i felt like a jabillion bucks. Black river was great as always. Sun, beer, river – who could ask for anything more??? That night, i helped load the fireworks for the fourth of July spectacular and almost lost my hands in the process. It was like a colorful war field. One exploded right above us and it was totally beautiful and deafening.

The next day I just floated and took in the sweet missouri air and loved life. 
I’m tired of writing about italy. It’s over. Done. Fin. Dead.
Tomorrow I leave for Africa. Hold on to your butts.

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