In the age of iPods, iPhones and MacBooks, outlets are a hot commodity at the airport. If you get lucky, you will even get to see people fight over the only outlet at Gate C10.
After 3 hours of last minute packing, I manage to get all my boots and hair products into a rolling duffle, a 25-inch suitcase, a purse, a backpack, and a carryon. All except one boot. Not a pair of boots, just one boot. So I open every bag trying to rearrange items in order to stuff this one boot in without smashing any shampoo bottles.
Apparently, a Google search for “yellow cab” won’t show up a phone number for a yellow cab. They don’t want to come to Brooklyn anyway, so limo service it is. So I get a phone call from the car service at 1pm, my car has arrived. I go outside and my car is around the corner, next to the car is a girl listening to her iPod. She doesn’t look like a driver, but she is standing by my car so I ask, “Are you my driver?” In some sort of confused excitement, she says yes. So she follows me into my apartment and I give her one of my bags to carry. She looks at me with bewildered eyes. Definitely not my driver. I somehow managed to pick up some random girl off the street.
United charges $15 for your first checked bag, $40 for two bags. Checking bags cost half my plane ticket. Checked bags must be less then 50 lbs. I sit at the airport for 20 minutes repacking my bags. Twice.
At the security gate, I am stopped by the security guard.
“Excuse me miss, you have three bags.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. One, two, three.”
“Yes, but I’m smaller then the average American traveller. My backpack doesn’t count.”
“Go check one of your bags or make them two bags.”
Humour me. Note the “u” for good measure.
Repacking at the airport for the third time. So far, I am not a fan of LaGuardia airport.
I also think that airlines should charge plane fares by weight. It's not fair that I pay the same amount to fly as someone who weighs 250 pounds.
And these guys.
...this is New York's longest strawberry shortcake. It was delicious. I forgot my camera and had to rely on the camera phone. I sat and ate all my strawberry themed goodies on a bench in Washington Square Park. A feather floated down in front of me and my friend exclaimed, "Forrest Gump!!!" and then a bird pooped on her. It was poetic.
