The Time I Visited Texas - Day 4

Sorry for the delay in posts, I was changing jobs (Yes this was directly related to having Texas rape me). So now for the conclusion of Kelson Fagan's "The Time I Visited Texas."

6:30 AM - I wake up super early, because I'm just neurotic enough to think thats cutting it close to make my 10:30 flight. The reasoning went like this:

6:30 AM - Wake Up/Pack/Leave Hotel
7:00 AM - Catch cab to hotel (leave 20 minutes to allow cab to show up - this is Austin, cabs dont traverse the streets at 7 am)
8:30 AM - Arrive at airport (even though the cab ride is only 20 minutes (tops) to the airport, I leave a good 45 minutes to arrive at the airport - what happens if I hit traffic!)
8:45 AM - I haven't printed my boarding pass so I need at least 15 -20 minutes to get that together and then it takes like...an hour to go through Security. Holy shit, I'm really cutting this close.
10:10 AM - Finally got through security, the flight is already boarding. SHIT! Run to terminal and pray to the god I don't believe in that I make it.
10:30 AM - Flight takes off. (I spend the entirety of the flight eying passengers to ensure there is no 9/11 part deux).

So that's what I think when I make my plan for how long everything will take. In reality it went like this.

6:30 AM - Wake up. I packed the night before so...I umm... call a cab?
6:34 AM - Cab is called, I'm dressed with all my bags in tow. Please don't forget I'm now an official US amputee. This will make things difficult right?
6:40 AM - I make it downstairs to wait for my cab, but several cabs are lined up to take people. They ask me if I need a ride and I take one from the competition of the cab company I called. (I hope that poor bastard is still waiting for me to come).
6:45 AM - On the way to the airport apparently I felt thoughts of death (I don't recall this at all, but my notebook says so, so I believe it. Maybe it was the gargantuan amount of blood I lost.)
7:00 AM - Arrive at airport! I'm now and 1:30 ahead of schedule if you are keeping track at home.
7:15 AM - Finish checking in (I went to the wrong terminal at first.) Because I have a legitimate limp to my step, I'm getting quite a few lips. I realize that I often stare at people with limps because I wonder how they got it and feel somewhat bad that they are crippled for life. I do not enjoy the fact people will think I am a cripple for life. (Even worse, I'm afraid people will think I was crippled in the recent "Mexico Emo Wars.")
7:30 AM - Through security. OK at this point my flight takes off in 3 hours. I may have overshot just a tad.

To waste time I decide to visit Earl Campbell's Restaurant. For those of you blissfully unaware, Earl Campbell was a running back for the Houston Oilers in the 70's...or 80s. Nonetheless, he is irrelevant in my world, until now, when he provides me with a terrible breakfast croissant, that was no joke, the size of a football. (I'll never understand the fascination with sports players naming restaurants after themselves. I mean...do you really think a half-retarded football player who suffered years of concussions is the best man to get your meal from? I say no. Unless Emeril comes out with his own line of sports balls, this practice should be banned.) (Also, it is uncool to name things after football plays. It makes everyone feel dumb to order it. The woman in front of me ordered the "Training Camp Burrito" which may or may not have included real bits of turf in it.)

My day will goes as follows. Austin to Houston to Atlanta to Raleigh. Should be fun. I spend the next 3 hours reading, but consciously realize that 4 other flights on my airline have left from Austin to Houston. (Next time I'm showing up 12 minutes before my flight, this will avoid any self esteem crushing airport waits.)

I get to Houston and realize that because the fucking crew couldnt get the goddamn plane door open once we were docked (or whatever the non space ship term is) I have 10 minutes before my plane boards. If you have never been to the Houston airport let me draw you a picture of what it looks like.


Now if you can read this clusterfuck of a map, congrats you have me beat. But the way its laid out, means that A and B are not connected to C,D & E. I arrived at gate E in International Arrivals, all the way in the bottom right corner. My connecting flight, scheduled to leave in 30 minuets was slated to depart from the far corner of Terminal B. It took me a good 10 minutes to even find the tram and by that time I was already in C. So I got to B about 15 minutes before the flight was supposed to take off. Only to find that it was delayed. (It was also at this point I realized that Houston airport has no A/C. I'm sure this is George Bush's doing.)

Austin to Houston is about 45 minutes in a plane. Atlanta to Raleigh is about the same. Houston to Atlanta? Oh about 2+ hours. So which flight do you think had the smallest plane? Mmhmm. The type of plane that a 6' 1" man such as myself, can not stand up straight in. How does it make sense to have a puddle jumper go the longest distance? (It doesn't). My one real qualm lays in the height situation. Don't hire normal flight attendants for these flights, hire midgets. It's more entertaining and it gives you less of a feeling like you are being stuffed in a metal death box.

So that was Texas. Just as glamorous as I had heard about. If you have the chance to go, pull an "18 year old circa the Vietnam War" and cut off your pinky toe to avoid going. I kid you not. I will be back in the next week or so with some new sections, including some "flashback" posts of adventures I've had, Things I Hate, Things That Scare Me and the introduction of a weekly "Live Blog." Stay tuned for great things and tell more people to read (the more people that read, the more I can sell ads for and the more annoyed you can be! Everyone wins!)