The Gate, The Pier, The Long Weekend

Friday, August 12, 2005. 4 p.m.
Reagan National Airport, terminal A.
Gate 5.

I'm sitting on the ledge by the window because of the asshats who use three seats in the waiting area - one for their ginormous arses, one for their recently purchased fattening meals, and one for their carry-on bags, newspapers, and US Weeklys. The air vents are freezing my calves. I'm trying to finish the crossword, but I keep getting distracted by the Northwest employee SCREAMING into the PA system, "FIRST CLASS ONLY! FIRST CLASS ONLY! PREBOARDING! FIRST CLASS ONLY" over and over and over again. As if we need to be reminded that we are lowly peons who can't afford to purchase first class tickets for a ONE HOUR FLIGHT. Why would you waste your money on a first class ticket for a hop, skip, and a jump - no scratch that, just a hop and a skip - to Detroit? It's not like you get food, and I hardly think that a few free watered-down drinks makes up for it. Because guess what? You might have a vodka tonic in your hand, but it'll never be stiff enough to block out the cacophony of babies screeching a few rows back behind the curtain. You haven't escaped, you've bought yourself some extremely overpriced drinks. Rather, your company bought them. So when I pass, don't give me that look, that wow-I-feel-so-sorry-for-her look -- I like coach.

Anyway, everyone is looking at each other like, "Is this chick for real?" She did not seem to understand that if she turned off the microphone mid-screech, people at freaking DULLES could have heard her. Shut UP.

Right, so back to Michigan I went - back to The Gate. It was nice to escape the situation that's simmering in my apartment, at least for a few days (anyone looking to live in a shoebox-sized room with no closet? Just let me know...). Did lots of fun stuff, saw my beautiful baby niece, partied, shopped, and got NO sleep. Totally worth it.



So Tonks gets a good-sized group to go to Pier 500 in Wyandirt. Again. But this time, EmFace and Adam came along. Haven't partied with them since... well, their wedding, I think. In 2003. Yikes. It was a blast - and Tonks was very entertaining. Adam kept matching her shot for shot, and before we realized it, she was toast. She proceeded to make friends with almost every group of people on the pier, knocked someone off of their stool at the bar, yelled at some guy for not telling her that he was married, and flirted with everyone in sight. She grabbed my boob a few times, too - so it was nice to get some.

The best part of the night was our 3 a.m. meal at the trashy Coney Island. She repeatedly ordered a veggie omelet from anyone who walked by - our server, other servers, the busboy, other customers, and each of us at the table. She very loudly announced that she had fucked all of the men in the restaurant (obviously not true. I think...), causing all of us to hide underneath the table, bursting with giggles. While driving her inebriated ass to Canton at 4 a.m., she alternated between screaming along with WJLB Detroit radio and passing out. It was just amazing.

Celebrated my birthday with the fam on Monday (hells yes! for the bumpy cake), met Tonks and Pavel at the bar for a bit. Got five hours of sleep before the 7 a.m. flight (that's four more than last time, for those of you counting). And just like last time, the flight was delayed an hour because of "mechanical difficulties." Unlike last time, however, we were already on the plane when they discovered there was a problem. That makes you feel so safe and secure -- listening to the repairs being made underneath you. Northworst is really starting to grate on my nerves, and I'm just so glad that I have two more flights in the near future with them. Straight to work from the plane. Tired as hell. It's apparently getting around that I got the new job, and people are very excited for me. So that's coolio.

Anyhoo, sleep is calling. Begging, really.