What’s worse than a six hour layover in Miami? A six hour layover extended by an hour delay. Stuck in Miami…which ends up getting me stuck in Minneapolis because my connection to
Brainerd is the last flight to
Brainerd of the day and will be leaving a half hour before I even get to Minneapolis. One problem with being stuck in Miami is that the majority of people that are flying out of Miami are a hundred and twelve years old. They don’t really understand delays and they don’t know how to calculate how an hour effects their connection in Minneapolis. For instance, they can’t calculate that if the plane was initially scheduled to land at 8:30 pm, it will now be landing at 9:30 pm. And if their connection is scheduled to leave at 9:00 pm THEY’RE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT. They must go to the desk three or four times and ask the same questions over and over. “What time are we leaving Miami”? The answer is 6:50 pm each time. “What time will we land in Minneapolis”? The answer is 9:30 pm each time. “What will happen to us if our connection has already left”? You will be put up in a hotel for the night in Minneapolis and put on the first available flight in the morning, is always the answer. But just
in case you are deaf or dumb, due to your age of 112 please feel free to budge in line and ask the same
flipp’n questions again. And how does someone grow a penis looking nose? Not only is it wrinkly like an old penis (not that I’
ve seen a lot of real old penises, but even younger ones are somewhat wrinkly) but this guy's is long and hanging off his face. It seems to be growing. It’s taken on a purple hue. Kind of like an alcoholic
pompous nose but more like a penis. Wow…weird. Why would anyone, even a young person in their early twenties, think they could fly to Minneapolis in February in shorts and flip flops? It’s well below zero in Minneapolis right now. How cool does that make you if you freeze something off? Why do people think we’re all friends now because we have something in common (a delayed flight)? Just because we get to sit here with each other for an additional hour we are now somehow connected. Like we
weren’t connected before the flight delay but now we are. Stop talking to me. Stop telling me you’re going to Rochester and you don’t think you’ll make your connecting flight in Minneapolis. Stop asking me if the wheel chair person will be there to help you when you get off in Minneapolis. They can see you’re going to be late and will make accommodations to pick up your crippled ass an hour later. Stop asking me if I think you’ll get your luggage if you have to spend the night in Minneapolis. I don’t know and I don’t care. Ask for a tooth brush at the front desk and turn your adult diaper inside out for tomorrow. Why don’t they have cocktail waitresses in airports? Would it kill them to walk around and take drink orders? I think not. Why is coffee $5.00 in an airport. You can buy an entire pound of coffee for $5.00. But then again it never tastes as good as it does when it costs $5.00. And how long has that cream been sitting out on that counter? Seems like it never goes bad. Should we leave the half and half out at home without worry of spoiling? I think not. Am I the only English speaking person left in America? I guess not. There are a few others. But those few speak some mangled version of English. I can’t understand them. And after I ask “pardon” three or four times they turn to their co-worker and start squawking in another language, surely complaining that I am stupid or deaf because I can’t understand what they are staying in English. And you have to love the messages that are
broadcasted over the loud speaker in the airport in just about every imaginable language, including the mangled English version. How is it that I’m stuck in the Miami airport for almost 8 hours the day before the third most watched sporting event in the world (First being the Soccer World Cup Final and second being the Cricket World Cup Final) and not see one celebrity?
Well with that said, I'm going to go answer some more questions about luggage and wheel chairs. I'll still keep my eyes peeled for celebrities. And practice my chant for tomorrow night, "GO COLTS...LOVE YA MANNING...KICK SOME BEAR BUTT".