Airport Adventures (or why the universe wants me to be fat)

Here I am, sitting at the airport, having missed my first flight to Newark. The man sitting next to me is wearing the same cologne as my dad, and I keep looking over, hoping to find my dad. Instead it's a man with a Trebek mustache and bleach-stained pants. He doesn't look like the person who would appreciate being called "dad" by a complete stranger.

But let me back up. It didn't always have to be this way. I was actually on time this morning (surprisingly). Unfortunately, the universe has a way of slapping me in the face whenever I try to get anywhere early.

I went to the gym last night. The gym close to my house was having a fantastic deal, and I signed up for a 30-day trial for $15. "Great!" I thought to myself, "I can finally get back in shape and get a jump start at heading off the holiday season weight game." I decided that I would head to the gym after work to take full advantage of the discount.

When I arrived at the gym, I was immediately taken on a tour and then sat down with one of the lovely gym employees to officially sign me up. Since I had done everything online, it didn't show up in the system, so I was required to leave my ID at the front desk (you see where this is going). Well, being the idiot that I am, I left it there when I went home.


Flash forward to this morning... I called my cab, got in, and he took me to the airport. When I went to pay him, I realized that my ID was still at the gym. In near hysterics, I urged the cabbie to step on it (no, I didn't actually say those words. I'm not *that* cliché). This was at 6:37. My flight was at 7:30. In a mad dash to Allston and back, we made it to the airport by 7:20. I rushed into the airport, not forgetting to give my cabbie the biggest tip that I could.


I pleaded my case to the sympathetic attendant at the check-in counter who escorted me through the security line. This is despite the guy at the security check point who insisted on asking me every question he could think of, all the while making me more and more anxious about missing my flight.


Him: What is the purpose of your trip?
Me: Business.
Him: What kind of business do you do?
Me: Educational travel.
Him: Did you pay for this trip, or did they?
Me: They did.
...ETC....


With my laptop still in my hand, I ran to the gate, which was, thankfully, right next to the security line. But, my luck being terrible, the gate attendant informed me that they had just closed the door and, no, they couldn't open it back up for a 25-year old who would be late for work if they didn't. No amount of pleading would make them change their mind, not even the semi-genuine tears that threatened to fall down my cheeks. One of the women took pity on me, however, and assigned me to the next flight to Newark, departing in an hour and 15 minutes.


So, here I sit, already late for my first meeting, sitting text to my dad's olfactory twin, waiting for the next flight to take me to New Jersey to see hotels.


The moral of the story? Apparently the universe doesn't want me to go to the gym, and will punish me every time I try to get healthy.



Yeah... that's the right thing to take away from this situation, right?