27 Hour Day...

I got up at what would be the equivalent to 1 AM PST. Showered... I think. Packed the suitcase and jumped in the rental car, which I fueled up the night before. I made my way back to the Ft. Lauderdale Airport, with the window open to keep me awake and also because it was like 70 out still.

Checked in, got a terrible latte made by some Haitian chick with an attitude and sunk into my seat to wait for the plane.

Plane was totally full but lucky me, the middle seat was open and I got the hottie sitting in the other seat. The only middle seat on the plane that is open is between us and the hottie... Who could ask for more? Right I am married... (Us?)

Once above 10,000 feet... I popped on my iPod and curled up against the window as I watched the sunrise over the Atlantic. Nite nite... I thought...

BAM!!

What was that? Nothing... back to sleep... sort of...

BAM!! BAM!!

Okay, now dude what the fuck? I turned around and a 7 year old kid off his meds is jumping around on the early flight. Great I thought...

BAM!

So much for sleeping... I got a cup of coffee and watched that movie with The Rock as a football player getting surprised by his long lost daughter... Heh... Why me?

BAM!

Also read the Economist. I love this magazine so much. Great topics on foreign affairs and the world economy...

BAM! This time right in the lower spine which hurts like hell already.

I jumped up and gave the father the "I'm gonna fuck your shit up" look. He was busy reading the Book of Mormon or something.

Then they gave this kid sugar.

It got peaceful toward the end of the movie. Ah... 2 hours done in a 5 hour flight.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!...

This time the kid is opening and closing his tray. So I leaned the chair all the way back...

Ah, the father catches on and starts paying attention to the kid...

I popped my second vike and watch my left hand shake for 15 minutes or so and listen to my iPod. I doze off...

BAM! It's 15 minutes later or something...

What do I do? Do I be a prick and wake everyone else on the plane? After all he is 7 and someday Elijah is gonna kick the chair in front of him.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The beatings continued the rest of the flight. I sat all the way forward with my head on the chair in front, leaving my seat all the way back.

We descend into Salt Lake City. This kid is all giddy and really bouncing around because of the snow he now sees everywhere. He tells stories to his sister... on and on...

Of course, now we move our chairs to the upright and locked position (whatever that means, they lock in any position) and we glide down, sit on the tarmac for like 15 minutes because snow is everywhere and finally we pull to the gate and the kid is rocking kicking and pulling my seat. I am about to snap but I give one last glare to the dad and he calms the kid down.

It's taking forever to get off and the kid is again hanging all over the back of my seat now. Pulling, tugging... rocking... all his weight is on it...

Finally I say "Fuck it" and push the recline button and watch my seat fall all the way back slinging the kid back into his chair. He totally fell down and I said to the Dad, "Oh shit! I am sorry, I accidentally hit the button."

I'm such a dick...