That Blows

So, I came home from Virginia last night. Or should I say last night and this morning. It was a grueling experience, one that I will blame on Delta Airlines (Don't Ever Leave The Airport), my travel agent, Taco Bell, and a Down's Syndrome Child!

With about 4 hours of sleep and a slight case of the cocktail flu, I boarded my flight from Roanoke, VA to Detroit, MI at 5 p.m. (EDT)  Detroit, you ask?  Me, too. My travel agent (who shall remain nameless) got the cheapest rate for me and it involved Detroit. And let me tell you, nothing good ever happens in Detroit. Our flight to Detroit went with no problems. Got there in an hour. I walked across the airport to get to my gate where my DFW flight was to leave. I had an hour layover, so I bought the NY Times, so I could do the crossword puzzle on the 2 and a half hour flight home. (FYI: I finished the puzzle in INK!)  About 45 minutes into the layover, the gate attendant announced that the flight was going to be delayed due to another flight with our crew on it was late. "About 30 minutes", she said.  And then she said, "an hour". "Well, folks it looks like it will be a couple of hours".  Now, for a normal person, that would be a drag, but for a person that likes to imbibe in the tobacco, it is a serious problem!!!  But, I took some tylenol and some Skittles and tried not to think about it.

But, I was starving!  So, I look around the terminal and the only thing I see with food is Taco Hell. I knew that this might cause problems in a couple of hours, but I WAS STARVING. So, I ate a tasteless burrito and a stale taco and waited for the plane.

We finally boarded the plane. It's was a  full flight. It also was a very turbulent flight.  So, after about 7 hours without a nicotine kiss, 4 hours of sleep, a slight hangover and a bad burrito, I wasn't feeling too well.  And it was obvious that the little Down's Syndrome boy sitting behind me had eaten at Taco Hell, also (If you get my whiff drift.) Shoo-wee!!! All is going okay until suddenly I smell something...rancid and really bad!  The boy's father says something to his son, and all HELL BREAKS LOOSE!!!  The poor boy had an accident in his pants. And it was a big one. He starts screaming and crying, His father is desperately trying to calm him and get to his carry on to get some new clothes for the boy. It was a mess. (pun intended).

And it's not looking good for me, either. Now I am on the edge. With every breath I take, I get a little more nauseous. With every bump in the plane, I get a little more nauseous.  And when the little boy and his father return from the bathroom, it was all she wrote. Still not smelling completely fresh, the boy sits behind me and that was it. We hit a big turbulent bump and Pappy had to get to the bathroom!

I got to the bathroom and the door was blocked by the jump seat (we were about 15 minutes to landing) and I threw that jump seat back faster than a hooker unhooks her bra, and I get in that bathroom (still smelling a little rank) and THAR SHE BLOWS! Bye, bye burrito!

When I finally got home, I was greeted by Wylie (formerly Betty's dog, now my niece's dog). He was brought over earlier in the day for me to keep while my niece is on vacation. He was excited to see me. In fact he left me some "presents" right in front of the door.  Which I immediately stepped in and smashed into the carpet.

I got to bed at 2:00 a.m. (CDT)

What would Betty say? "Well my baby (Wylie) never did that with me!" And then she would complain about her bowels and about the little Down's Syndrome child that one of her friends had that died as a baby.