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Far too cool to fly on time.

AUSTRALIA | Saturday, 20 March 2010 | Views [984] | Comments [1]

Dreaming happily about being on time for a flight.

Dreaming happily about being on time for a flight.

This seasons fashion is idiocy, best expressed through missed flights and further unnecessary expenditure. While the finger of blame could stray slightly towards others, I must accept full responsibility for uncovering more and more unusual ways to waste my money. Us avant-garde types care little for cash as long as we look cool doing whatever keeps us at the cutting edge of chic. My flagrant disregard for finance or flight schedules must surely put me at the top of some sort of list of notable achievements as intelligence is so yesterday.

My stupidity stocks started rising as soon as I booked flights for hours of the day that most people don't even know exist. How I thought I could make it the airport at those times shows I was already considering taking cretinism to the catwalk. For obvious reasons, such flights are usually cheaper than other times when more modes of public transport are available to get to the airport. A $10 saving on a flight only equates to laughter when it costs $20 more to get to the airport.

Thankfully I thought at the time, Trev offered to take me to Hobart airport to start this latest misadventure into destitution. Needing to be there at 7:25am is not impossible in many peoples minds, but we had closed the bar together the night before and the alarm forbid any more than 4 hours sleep. Trev's mode of functioning was largely instinctual, so he deemed a coffee to be essential to survive the drive back without a co-pilot forewarning him of the changing colour of traffics lights and such. Pulling up in the 2 minute drop-off zone, I was required to wait by the car while Trev retrieved his survival fluid. From the car park I was lucky enough to hear the last boarding call for my flight. I was unlucky enough to have common sense desert me as I waited anxiously for Trev to return. Running inside to the counter believing the last boarding call afforded me 5 – 10 minutes, I discovered to my dismay it had afforded me about 5 – 10 seconds. $54 for my best intentions to take the flight to Melbourne, $104 for me and my luggage to make the same trip 2 hours later.

That sort of experience and waste of money normally steels someone's resolve to not make such mistakes again. 2 days later I proved just how unique I am. After a few motivational scotchs' with an old friend in the city, I caught the shuttle to the airport at 2am. 3 hours of bone realignment and prayers for any sort of relief from consciousness on the airport floor, I checked in and made my way to the gate for my 6:15am departure. Finding couches in the waiting area was like having strippers at your own funeral. It was too late to make the most of it. Or so I thought. 45 minutes until take off didn't stop me from sneaking in 40 minutes of sleep. Waking up just 5 minutes later than I did, I would have known for sure that all hope was gone. Even the flight closed sign as I ran to the counter didn't dim my hopes that I could still board from a mobile staircase as the plane taxied down the runway. Apparently, everyone except for me has a pretty robust sense of humour at that time of the morning. The service desk staff cut me some slack when they realised their laughter wasn't as infectious as they hoped and my look of displeasure was misinterpreted as being outwardly vengeful rather than inwardly embarrassing. $50 later gave me 8 hours to parade around the airport like the hippest cat in town.

After such an eventful time getting to Port Macquarie, the events there seem quite pale in comparison. And relatively cheap. Staying at Adams unit for the duration, I finally got to spend some time with his lovely bride to be, Kiara. Very little was needed in the way of entertainment as Adam and I went about amusing ourselves in the usual manner. I was there ostensibly for the engagement party though, which I could detail at length but won't as everyone knows how such events go for me. It was great to spend some time with the other groomsman Gus, and old Lismore friends in Albert and Valentina (Still not their real names) came along to add their special touch to the nights proceedings.

Stupidity being the style of the moment, I furthered bolstered my trend-setting stocks by letting Adam's staffy pup go for a romp around the neighbourhood unattended. As he had been baying at my leg with amorous intent while I tried to eat breakfast, I put him in the front yard and elegantly forgot to close the front gate. I searched the streets for 45 minutes while cooking up numerous reasons for his escape that didn't implicate me in any way. I returned home to concoct a plan more cunning than just wandering the streets with a panic stricken air and found the pup sitting at the back door probably wondering where I had gone to as well. The feeling of relief didn't last long when he tried to celebrate our reunion with an attempted mount that is specifically named after his species. So luckily I guess, the trip will be remembered more for my failed attempts to fly than the family I almost fractured.

Tags: flying, friends, misadventures, party

Comments

1

Hey homeless_harry,

We really like your story and decided to feature it this week on the WorldNomads Adventures homepage so that others can enjoy it too.

Happy Travels!
World Nomads

  World Nomads Mar 22, 2010 3:59 PM

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