I am 10 hours into a trip to Rome and I haven’t even gotten out of Philadelphia yet. So far, I’ve been day drunk in La Crosse because of a long flight delay and a bartender with a passion for passing out Jameson’s, I’ve been in a tweet-shaming-showdown with American Airlines after they declared the overheads in Chicago were too full so my carryon bag would have to be checked TO ROME – ahem, that was three airports and 20 hours away so I had to stuff everything I would need into my little shoulder bag – and now I’ve been on the tarmac in Philadelphia for more than an hour because some dipsh!t tried to sneak a dog to Madrid, so they pulled off the passenger and the dog, and then had to empty the cargo hold looking for her checked bag. You can’t make this stuff up. On the bright side, there doesn’t seem to be a baby anywhere near me. I normally wouldn’t think I needed luck just getting overseas, but…wish me luck.
