But really. A DUI?

I had a 9:30 flight from LaGuardia to Columbia, SC.  I had left work early (perfect way to end a slow Friday), I had packed, and I was ready to go.  As I rushed out the door to the subway ($40 plus toll and tip for a taxi?!  That’s a whole weekend out!), I got a call from 1-800-212-1212.  Huh?

I ignored it, figuring that whoever it was would leave a voicemail.  After about 2 minutes, something told me to call the number back.  It was Delta.  A few clicks on my iPhone told me my flight was delayed an hour and a half (which meant I wasn’t getting into Columbia til 1am).  Apparently Delta calls you if your flight changes.  See if I ever use damn Priceline again!

An hour and a half to kill.  You’ve left your place with your stuff.  What would you do? 

“Hey, it’s D. Kareem.  My flight got delayed, so call me back if you wanna do a happy hour like now-ish.  Later.”

Nobody was picking up at first, but I eventually got a call from TTT who wanted me to come to his place to pre-game for his birthday.  Awesome because a) my plane was delayed another hour and b) TTT lived about a block from the bus to the airport.

TTT’s usual crew was there, but of course, TTT was in the bathroom primping when I arrived.  The boys were drinking wine (huh?), so I followed suit (since I didn’t bring anything).  When TTT finally emerged from the bathroom, we discussed dinner options (huh?!) and decided on a somewhat affordable Mexican place.  I, of course, had had a meal and a protein shake before I left, thinking I would be traveling for the following 4 hours, so I just got a drink.

Dinner topics: transgender people; polyamorous teenage fights; guys who are into transgender women (that means F to M) and identify as straight.  God, we're such soc(iology) majors.

Awkward moment:

MicHELLe (talking about a guy he really wanted to be into): “…and he got a DUI.”

Me: “Oh, come on!  On top of everything else, do you really want to hang out with the type of character who would get a DUI?”

Ms. W: “Oh, thanks.”

*pause*

TTT: “Ms. W got a DUI.”

TTT’s high-school friend: “So did I.”

*pause*

Me: “Yeah, I don’t even have a fix for that one.  Oh well, oh well.”

Turns out Ms. W swerved while driving recklessly  not watching the road  changing a song on her iPod.  She got arrested, but all charges were dropped when she was found to be under the legal limit.  TTT’s friend did not elaborate. 

But really.  A DUI?  That’s not exactly easy to get. 

Anyway, we finished our dinners (my drink) and headed back to TTT’s place. 

Ms W: “Who’s coming with me to buy ice cream for the cake!”

. o O (God, cake isn’t enough?!  You really don’t want anyone to look good on the beach this summer!)

After the feeding, we had another drink.  The boys went to Suite, but I veered off to catch the bus.  . o O (My flight’s leaving at 1:30, so if I catch a bus at— shit!  The 12:30 bus won’t get me to the Delta Terminal til 1:10!  That gives me like 10 minutes to get through security.  Get ready to run.)

Why did I show up at LaGuardia at 1:13 (you’d think late-night busses would run ahead of schedule)?  Why was the first security checkpoint closed.  And the second?! 

I start banging on the door to catch the attention of the TSA guy who is stretched out on a couple of chairs with his shoes off.  He shuffles over as I’m waving my boarding pass and yelling, “My flight’s boarding now!  I have to get through.”

He tells me to go back to the first security checkpoint where I go through the same song and dance.  They tell me to go to the last door (I thought it was the 2^nd checkpoint again... they let me get about halfway down the hallway before calling me back to the other end of their checkpoint), and they open the doors to send me through.  I’m running through the terminal with my Timberlands in one hand, my laptop in the other, and my bag over my sholder. 

Then I dropped a shoe.  So I stopped to pick it up, but full sprint + stopping in socks = oh shit.  I missed my butt and landed flat on my back.  It happened rather smoothly since I was on a downward-sloping ramp.  So smoothly that I heard someone say, “Wow he really…” as I got myself together and continued to gate 5.  The last gate.  Of course.

Did I mention I really had to pee?  Like had-consumed-3-drinks-and-hadn’t-peed-in-an-hour pee?  Fortunately, the plane wasn’t boarding yet.  Unfortunately, we boarded about 30 seconds after I caught my breath.  Yeah.

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