Time and time again, I seem to almost fall victim to disaster. To almost die. To nearly get flattened by a big, fat rock like Wiley Coyote.
Take for example, how I woke up one winter morning a few months ago prepared to fly from Laguardia to Raleigh, NC, without any problems. Unfortunately, about fifteen minutes after I awoke, I got an emergency call from US Airways. They'd cancelled my flight. Due to "weather."
Yeah, right. When I finally get to Laguardia, I'm rerouted to Charlotte. I have two options for flights: One leaving rightthisminute and one leaving in about an hour. Having just waited the whole morning for my rerouted flight, I take the one leaving rightthisminute.
So, I push through security, run to my gate and just make the flight to Charlotte. Two hours laters and I'm safe and sound in the South...
Only guess what's playing in a nonstop loop on every TV screen nationwide?
A US Airways plane. From Laguardia. To Charlotte. That left, oh, about an hour after the flight that I just made by the skin of my teeth and which was now sitting in the Hudson River.
A few months later, Justin and I are traveling again. We catch a flight from Laguardia to Chicago, only just narrowly avoiding some crazy homeless guy showing up at our exact same gate with a bomb strapped to his chest!
Folks were evacuated and trapped outside Laguardia for HOURS after the guy was arrested. Had we gotten caught up in that mess, we never would've made it to the "Heil Hitler" wedding (see previous post). What a drag!
And it only gets worse -- this time, with boats instead of planes.
Justin planned a romantic surprise for me last weekend to celebrate my upcoming birthday. First, he orders me to dress up (which I happily do!). Then, we hop into a cab and he hands the driver instructions so I can't figure out where we're going (cool, huh?). Then, about twenty minutes later, we arrive (ta da!) at Pier 81, where a HUGE cruise ship is waiting to whisk us around Manhattan.
We have a wonderful night of dinner, dancing and staring up at the Statue of Liberty passing by. I'm elated -- on top of the world -- and I feel like I have the best boyfriend ever. We make it home after more than too many espresso martinis, fall into bed to sleep it all off...
And awake the next morning to find that we were thisclose to a helicopter falling on our heads!
What the hell, people?! Who faces down death/dismemberment this often? I feel like a cat with nine lives who's only got about six left.