Friday, October 5, 2007

Why my brain feels like Oatmeal today.

Just so we're clear on the title:


Brain.



Oatmeal.



Thankfully, I'm currently at my current place of work. Both people who serve in a supervisory capacity are not here, nor shall they be for the rest of the day. That means I have a good bunch of hours of staring at the wall, giving the 'Random Article' button of wikipedia a thorough workout, and (most importantly) updating you lovely people on what's happening.


Anyway, I live in Astoria, which is relatively close to LaGuardia Airport. Relatively by means of car transport, I mean. I wouldn't want to walk or swim there. See for yourself:



See? Really close.


Getting nearer my point, a friend of mine (whose name will be withheld to protect him) was/is taking advantage of this three day weekend to travel to a different state (whose name will be withheld to protect it) to take advantage of someone else (whose name will be withheld because I don't know it).


Follow that? Moving on.


Rather than entrust his vehicle to expensive long term parking and uknown nastiness, he asked his trustworthy pal Rev if he could drive to Astoria, leave said vehicle near my apartment, crash briefly on the couch for the night, and head out in the wee hours of morning to catch his flight, scheduled to depart at 5:50 AM. That's right, they make a 5:50 in the AM, too. It's true, I had to look it up. In military time, it's actually the only one, and the only 5:50 that I'm familiar with is called 17:50. We live in a crazy world.


Being a good guy, I said "sure." Though I did assure him that by "I will keep an eye on the vehicle" I meant "I won't personally destroy the vehicle" I could not in good faith make any promises about my neighbors, acts of God, or even Oach.




So it was agreed, and he came over last night. Like good Americans, we watched 30 Rock and The Office, then turned the TV off in disgust before ER could come on. Then it was time for bed, alarms were set, and I settled down to get my beauty sleep.

A sleep that was slightly interrupted by the sound of the doors opening as my guest left. That's fine, I was expecting it. I glanced at the clock. something didn't seem right. Indeed it wasn't, as the clock was displaying a time of 5:04 AM.

An alarm had apparently failed to live up to its name, and by doing so, caused much alarm indeed.

"If that was him leaving just now," thought I "then my phone is going to ring really soon."

Apparently, even tired and groggy, I am always right.

I don't remember the conversation, but it didn't last long, and there was some mention of "screwed" or "boned," I'm sure. And so, rolling out of bed, I found some pants and car keys and wallets and headed downstairs.

So off we drove, into the wee morning hours at approximately 5:15, trying to get this fella onto a plane scheduled to depart in a ridiculously brief amount of time. I'll take this time to mention that I have never driven to LaGuardia before, and also that I believe I was still in either sleep stage 1 or 2. Driving by Spider-sense, mostly.


(Mom, I'm exaggerating for comic effect, I was completely alert, safe, and wearing my seatbelt)


Thanks to the fact that it was early enough so that the commuters were just waking up and the vampires were just going to sleep, traffic was really light. We pulled up to the terminal at approximately 5:39 AM, according to the clock in my Sweet 'Bu (the pet name for my 98 chevy malibu).


That clock is also 7-8 minutes fast. I slowed to around 30 miles an hour, disengaged the child safety locks and allowed my passenger to dive and roll toward the gate, before the very rude taxi drivers forced me to continue on.

So it was not until I was back in my apartment that I got the text message.


And don't you know... the sonofabitch actually made the flight.


And that, my friends is why my brain feels like Oatmeal today.



-Rev



PS - Anyone up for the Beer Garden tonight? Or someplace else... it is Oktoberfest.

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