If it weren't for bad luck and stupidity... pt.3 final
A couple hairs on the back of my neck certainly stand up at this point, as I wonder if this is an incredibly generous offer or just a line from a yet to be made horror flick. [“Sure, come to my house. The car’s in the garage out back; this way my pretty.”] I even have visions of his car not starting, or him wanting to show me his scotch collection in his basement. I am truly a bit nervous.
“I don’t know how far you live from O’Hare, but that sounds like a far more generous offer than I should expect of you... How far away do you live?”
“It’s half an hour to O’Hare.”
“You’re going to get home at 1:30am only to tell your wife that you’re leaving to drive some guy you met on the plane to the airport?”
My faith in his goodwill returns when he agreeds that that is a dumb idea, and I’m sure his wife would be grateful for my momentary suspicion that he might be a serial killer. Tyler pays the full cab fare at his house, declaring that his company will cover it. Later I remember that he is self employed, so I kind of feel like I should have split it with him. I accept it now as his thanks for my not taking him up on his offer to drive me to O’Hare.
1:30am
Another $5 cab ride gets me to the Blue line of the L. Ignoring the very angry man drinking beer, cursing, and staring directly at me the entire train ride, I can truthfully say the L is uneventful.
2:00am
I’m finally at the O’Hare bus terminal in the lowest level of the airport. Yes, the thought of getting a hotel room crosses my mind, but I only have 4 hours to wait, and I’m just an underpaid librarian after all. So I’m alone in the dungeons of O’Hare. Part of me is uneasy even thinking about sleep for fear that some random guy might walk by and jack my laptop, or my kidneys, or worse. After being awake for 41 hours, the potential loss of a kidney seems like an acceptable risk, and I decide to give sleep a chance. I’m sure you’ll all be happy to know, that my laptop, kidneys, and all other incidentals were never in any danger. Right after I get comfortable on the cold tile floor, the cleaning crew shows up. The loudest, most obnoxious and inconsiderate night crew ever formed. They storm through with no intention of letting me walk away thinking that staying in the terminal all night is a good idea. Those bastards.
4:00am
After two hours of the custodial jamboree, I encounter another realization. If I actually do fall asleep, what is going to prevent me from sleeping through the bus departure? My phone has an alarm; is it actually loud enough to drag me from the deep sleep I undoubtedly will fall into? Not bloody likely.
I shift gears around 4:30am, and start making preparations to ward off my slumber at least until the bus arrives. After some tooth brushing and some clean clothes, I manage to keep my eyes open long enough to make it onto the bus. Delighted with the prospect that my trip is finally over, I try to relax in spite of the fact that the seats are too uncomfortable for me to actually doze off. Unfortunately, I've forgotten one final hurdle.
9:30am
I call the cab company ten minutes before my bus is to arrive. The operator argues with me about the pickup time. I can't fathom why she thinks I need the extra time, but I get it later. She sends the cab to a completely different bus drop off location. The extra 20 minutes of waiting puts me in such a fowl mood that when I do get home I can’t sleep. I've been up 52 hours, a new personal record.
So do you guys think I did something very wrong to bring all this bad karma on myself, or do I have enough good luck on the way that I should be out buying powerball tickets?
“I don’t know how far you live from O’Hare, but that sounds like a far more generous offer than I should expect of you... How far away do you live?”
“It’s half an hour to O’Hare.”
“You’re going to get home at 1:30am only to tell your wife that you’re leaving to drive some guy you met on the plane to the airport?”
My faith in his goodwill returns when he agreeds that that is a dumb idea, and I’m sure his wife would be grateful for my momentary suspicion that he might be a serial killer. Tyler pays the full cab fare at his house, declaring that his company will cover it. Later I remember that he is self employed, so I kind of feel like I should have split it with him. I accept it now as his thanks for my not taking him up on his offer to drive me to O’Hare.
1:30am
Another $5 cab ride gets me to the Blue line of the L. Ignoring the very angry man drinking beer, cursing, and staring directly at me the entire train ride, I can truthfully say the L is uneventful.
2:00am
I’m finally at the O’Hare bus terminal in the lowest level of the airport. Yes, the thought of getting a hotel room crosses my mind, but I only have 4 hours to wait, and I’m just an underpaid librarian after all. So I’m alone in the dungeons of O’Hare. Part of me is uneasy even thinking about sleep for fear that some random guy might walk by and jack my laptop, or my kidneys, or worse. After being awake for 41 hours, the potential loss of a kidney seems like an acceptable risk, and I decide to give sleep a chance. I’m sure you’ll all be happy to know, that my laptop, kidneys, and all other incidentals were never in any danger. Right after I get comfortable on the cold tile floor, the cleaning crew shows up. The loudest, most obnoxious and inconsiderate night crew ever formed. They storm through with no intention of letting me walk away thinking that staying in the terminal all night is a good idea. Those bastards.
4:00am
After two hours of the custodial jamboree, I encounter another realization. If I actually do fall asleep, what is going to prevent me from sleeping through the bus departure? My phone has an alarm; is it actually loud enough to drag me from the deep sleep I undoubtedly will fall into? Not bloody likely.
I shift gears around 4:30am, and start making preparations to ward off my slumber at least until the bus arrives. After some tooth brushing and some clean clothes, I manage to keep my eyes open long enough to make it onto the bus. Delighted with the prospect that my trip is finally over, I try to relax in spite of the fact that the seats are too uncomfortable for me to actually doze off. Unfortunately, I've forgotten one final hurdle.
9:30am
I call the cab company ten minutes before my bus is to arrive. The operator argues with me about the pickup time. I can't fathom why she thinks I need the extra time, but I get it later. She sends the cab to a completely different bus drop off location. The extra 20 minutes of waiting puts me in such a fowl mood that when I do get home I can’t sleep. I've been up 52 hours, a new personal record.
So do you guys think I did something very wrong to bring all this bad karma on myself, or do I have enough good luck on the way that I should be out buying powerball tickets?
posted by Sylow_P | 7:18 AM
1 Comments:
I think you should buy the powerball tickets. A string of bad luck is usually followed by some interesting examples of good luck. Hope your good luck is greater than getting a fast moving grocery line or primo parking space and you win big. If you don't win, could I please win? I have a ticket for a change.
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