Guaranteed Eternal Sanctuary Man

Slipped into the Town Car at 6 am last Friday for transport to a 7:30 flight to O’Hare.

I was scheduled to be in Chicago for an 11 am meeting.

To be honest, I was hoping the flight would be delayed, thus forcing me to miss the meeting due to circumstances beyond control. No such luck.

Next thing I knew was in the lobby of the client’s building. On time. Early, actually, sifting through my notes and getting my nerve up to present the keystone of a launch campaign. I guess that’s why they pay me real live money.

The clock struck 11 and I was summoned to a conference room filled to the gills with clients and fellow employees, all licking their lips waiting for me to fuck up.

I didn’t fuck up.

The meeting was over in two hours and I slipped into a taxi with my fellow creatives and account chicks. We were on our way back to O’Hare for a 4 pm flight to LaGuardia. There were 5 of us.

We got to the airport and the flight is already delayed 2 hours. Fuck. We go through security and hit the bar. Sufficiently buzzed and satiated, we go to the gate. Flight delayed. No other info. Around that time we saw lightning flashes and thunder over the runways.

That’s always a good sign.

Let’s just say we got to know O’Hare’s concourse B very well. For the next ten hours we drank milkshakes, read each other’s magazines, were told our taco horiscope (don’t ask), changed gates, saw our flight cancelled. Ran, as a group, to the only Jet Blue gate in the airport, bought our own tickets, watched some California hippies set up a hammock, and slept.

After about 7 hours together, we also went to the Chilli’s, where the theme song from Dawson’s Creek was playing. No combination of words and music could have sucked more. I mentioned to Alyssa, my AE friend, that this was the perfect song for our situation. Have you ever seen a hot chick laugh wildly with a mouth full of nachos and guac?

We boarded our Jet Blue flight at 12:30 am. I got home at 6 am, EST. I had to be at work later that day, at 10 am. I overslept and was late. The rest of the week got worse. I don’t think I want to be a writer anymore.