BAH traveling is hard. I mean, not hard compared to actually hard things such as getting into a ninja fight or climbing Mount Everest with one arm tied behind your back…but it’s totally hard compared to chewing gum or putting on a sock.
It gets harder when you’re me and totally confused 90% of the time. My brain goes off on holiday whenever it actually needs to focus, like in the Seattle airport or during finals week. So here’s a quick rundown of my awesome time traveling home:
1. Engaged in verbal fisticuffs with a girl on the Light Rail on my way to the airport.
I was sitting in my seat and zoning out, looking at the girl’s foot/leg by accident, not because I had a personal vendetta against her jeans (though, come to think of it, they were pretty ugly), when she had a total heart attack and got mad at me. Well sorry, sister, but I like to let my eyes wander about freely, uninhibited. So they can look at your foot if they want. But since you insist, I will divert my gaze out the window and get carsick (or rather, light rail sick).
But she was mad now, so she kept staring at me for about 15 minutes, mumbling things to her (more normal) friend who kept trying to calm her down. I felt like I was in middle school, with the mean girls staring at me and giggling from across the classroom…Anyway, toward the end of the ride I may or may not have looked her straight in the eye at which point she called me a bitch and then my alter ego Chantel came out (keep in mind that Chantel is a pretty tame alter ego and usually only ends up saying slightly insulting things to people who totally deserve it…)
Girl: Bitch, look away!
Me/Chantel: What the hell is your problem?!
Girl: Bitch! (She may have not kept repeating bitch, but I can’t really remember what she actually said so we’ll just fill in the blank spots with profanities.)
Me/Chantel: You’re crazy! Get off the train. Just get off. (It was her stop, so I wasn’t being that threatening…it was just logical that she get off…)
And there you have it: fisticuffs at dawn (4 p.m.)
2. Lost my boarding pass at Qdoba.
I just wanted a taco! But noooo, my brain was so excited about the taco that I left my boarding pass on the counter and went to my gate before realizing (20 minutes later) that I no longer had it. I sprinted back and, somehow, no one had thrown it away and it was sitting there, whimpering, “Cappy, how could you have forgotten me? You’re so cruel.”
3. I think that was it, actually. It just seemed more like 10 things because I kind of wanted to throw a suitcase at that girl.
Good news is: I am home! Yay! Back to the land of wheat, where people actually wear helmets while bicycling and nobody tries to steal me off the street!