There are some typical scenes on my dog walks such as the frozen lake:
…and the geese over-population problem:
But there are several less-mundane scenes, like the bridge crashes and random blood on the snow:
And even political statements in the porta-potties:
The pilot came on the intercom.
Pilot: “Do we have any MDs on board? If you are a MD please touch your flight attendant call button. A passenger is ill and we need your assistance.”
Everyone looked around. No doctors aboard. A flight attendant rushed by with an intense looking oxygen tank.
The pilot repeated his request, and then asked if any nurses or medical personnel were aboard. No takers. Vet techs? None.
I felt pretty useless – “I can offer qualified legal advice!”
We arrived in Minneapolis and waited for the paramedics to fetch the ill passenger. I then stormed to baggage claim and wandered the parking garage1 for my car.
I hadn’t slept in 24 hours and was in a vicious mood.
I went to the University of Miami the night before. Trisha and I visited our old dorm and caught up on the student-life drammy.
The RAs chirped about homecoming and were freaking out about decorating their floors. Trisha and I looked at each other and laughed. We are both in professional school now, but just two years ago we were fumbling with construction paper and rubber cement. How bizarre.
I think I horrified one of the RAs who is thinking about applying to law school. Gloomy tales of the legal job market – dum dum dum!
Ben and I were posted at the main bar again. Blaring house music, strobes, bodybuilders, and periodic visits by the club’s manager and owner. Ben and I insisted on having a 4-hour3 conversation over the music, so I’m croaking like a seasoned smoker today.
I left the club around 5 a.m. and had a terrifying ride with a cab driver who was more familiar with the gas pedal than the road markings. I then showered and packed for the airport.
The airport was a disaster. The Delta Airlines area was understaffed and chaotic.
The baggage drop line was 100-people deep and crisscrossed the self check-in line. The result was that no one knew what line they were in until waiting in the wrong line for a half hour.
The lines moved at a glacial pace and we slowly realized that there was no way we would make our flight.
So many of us were late that they held the plane for us, but they didn’t tell us that the plane was waiting, so a pack of us tore down the terminal like we were being chased by zombie TSA agents.
After the airport sprint in Miami, the medical dramatics on the plane, and the 30 minute car seeking expedition in the Minneapolis Airport’s parking garage, I was so relieved to pick up Harley from the pet hotel and crash.
I slept for 8 hours, did laundry and some minimal cleaning, and I am going back to sleep so I can make it to work early.
It was a fun, exhausting trip.
Viva Miami, but welcome Minneapolis.
1 Parking was close to $75…bejesus.
2 Unofficial Lady Gaga night… they played “Bad Romance” at least three times, “Telephone” twice, “Love Game” and “Poker face.”
3 As opposed to the stand, pose, and smile routine that Carlos and I have mastered.