So... I went to Chicago last Friday. And my plane was delayed. Then they made us get on the plane an hour before our new flight time and taxi out to the runway. Just in case we could leave "early". We were out on the tarmac for approximately FOREVER. Someone had eaten Indian food and somebody kept farting. Five minutes before our new flight time, we started taxi-ing BACK to the gate. Apparently, someone was having a "medical emergency". I suspected fart poisoning. I immediately called my bff Jas, who happens to work at the airport as a firefighter/paramedic type. I left him the message above. He was not at work, but apparently, I am an unsympathetic, uncompassionate, very hungry bitch. The poor lady next to me probably wanted to switch seats, especially since I threatened to start slitting my wrists with the Vogue I was carrying. I hate delays.
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1 comment:
This is a good one! Yeah, I could see Jason saying that as a response. You were reading Vogue? Oh la la!
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