Entirely Erwin

Murphy's Erwin's Law

To the person who first recommended that one should be at the airport at least two hours before his or her flight, you are a freakin' genius. I have decided to devote the rest of my life to spread awareness of the evils of not being at the airport at least two hours prior. Here's why:

1. 99% of the driving population can't drive. "Hey there ma, there's a truck on dem dere side of the road. It may not be roadkill but it sure is ex-sah-ting to see the poor trucker fella's blinkers go off. Yee dawg-ee" (Having worked retail for 5 years, I'm well-versed in hick). State governments need to add an extra section to the driving exam to test for common sense. It can even be one question, but you only have 2 seconds to answer:

You are participating in a race. You overtake the second person. What position are you in?

2. More on common sense, who the freakin' hell does road construction in the middle of morning rush hour? Following in the example of Chicago, that's the time construction crews are on break. Of course, they're also on break for pre-breakfast, breakfast, pre-lunch, lunch, pre-dinner, dinner, dessert and the afternoon rush hour. They may work like hobbits (including the pipeweed smoking), but they sure do get paid damn well for it. Everywhere else take note.

3. So I made it to the airport with an hour left before my flight. I checked my bag in with no problems. I'm in the clear right? Too bad there was a line as long as Shaquille O' Neal's big black bitch splitter just to search the carry-ons. It took about 45 minutes to get to the front of the line, which is probably the amount of time to climb Mount Shaq, isn't that right Carl???

4. 15 minutes left before my flight leaves and I'm finally a few persons away from getting my carry-on checked out. The gameplan now is simple - be really easy going with the friendly security people so as to not attract suspicious attention for an additional search and then dart like a deranged lunatic to my plane which started boarding 20 minutes ago. I somehow failed to factor in the 70+ year old fogey standing at the front of the line who to me conveniently collapsed on the floor. All security halted checking bags to give the guy medical attention, and while everyone was like, "OMG! OMG! Is he OK?", I was like, "OMG!, OMG! I'm going to miss my freakin plane!" Luckily, he got up after a minute and security resumed checking bags as normal. Rather than a heart attack, it turns out that old geezer man's peg leg wasn't put on right and gave out on him.

I was able to make my plane as they were closing it's hatch. This wasn't before being included on a conversation with a bunch of 50-something flight attendants talking about how they were wearing green thongs in honor of St. Patrick's Day though. Welcome to my world...