I cannot believe I’m on part four already! I really didn’t mean to go on, and on about this, but I guess I still have a lot of emotions from this trip to work out, my apologies. Let’s wrap this up.
After causing quite the scene with the whole ‘people mover’ thing, I decided to get the heck out of dodge, or in this case, Dulles. I passed the baggage claim area by and left my luggage behind for the night. The gate agents had told me that it would take about an hour to get my bags back and I really couldn’t handle waiting around anymore. Me and my trusty Michael Kors dress would just have to stay acquainted for awhile longer. All I could think of was taking my heels off and having a big old drink, so I walked straight out the doors to meet my savior, Kirsten, who was already waiting curbside. What an angel.
Kirsten took me home to her family and put a cold beer in my hand while her daughter found me some comfy clothes to change into. As every second passed, I could feel the stress slipping away. I ate dinner with their family and spent the rest of the evening outside on the deck, drinking beers and chatting. It was the perfect antidote to the nightmare day I had had. Being rescued by my new friend, Kirsten, was the silver lining to a dark cloud.
Unfortunately for Gregory, he had no idea that I had needed a silver lining…
It was barely past 4AM when my phone rang, “Skippy, where are you?”
“I’m in Washington DC”
“No, I’m not in Paris, didn’t you get my messages?”
“No. You are not coming to Paris?”
“No baby, I’m sorry, I’m not coming to Paris.”
So that was a sucky way to wake up.
At 6AM, Kirsten’s saint of a husband delivered me back to Dulles and I went straight to the baggage claim office. I had been cursing myself for leaving my bags overnight since I had woken up, because I was sure that with luck I was having, my bags would be nowhere to be found. But I guess my luck had changed because not only were the two people in the baggage office super, duper, friendly, but they got my luggage situation sorted in only a couple of minutes and then smiled at me and bid me a good day.
And then the good vibes kept right on coming.
At Dunkin Donuts, the guy behind the counter gave me a free coffee with my chocolate donut (the breakfast of stranded champions), I got on my flight back to San Antonio without any hassle at all, and when my mother saw my sad tear stained face when I arrived home (I had been bawling my eyes out on the plane), she took pity on me, and took me out for Chinese food.
So other than the fact that I was supposed to be in Paris with my husband, and had I just spent over twenty-four hours basically traveling nowhere, it wasn’t a shabby Sunday.