Poppin' Champagne

I wish my "carry on" luggage, carrying all my necessities, I bought for 69 euro to save me 31 euro from shipping, didn't have to be forcibly checked for 160 euros. Because if I had my "carry on", I'd have my camera. And if I had my camera, I would be able to capture the business lounge I am currently sitting in. Yes, delays and cancellations and overcharges have their perks. I am sitting in a plush leather chair, sipping champagne and eating smoked salmon as I await to board my 7-hour business class flight to Denver. I cannot complain. I got to spend a day in Germany with my insta-bestie in a 4-star hotel with a well-stocked mini fridge and a delicious buffet dinner... Lufthansa, I love you.

Yesterday began at 4:30 am. Claire had to leave early to catch her flight right as I finished a REM cycle (knowledge courtesy of Al) leaving me wide awake. After an episode of How I Met Your Mother, I packed my stuff, checked out of Hotel Botticelli and took my luggage outside to wait for a taxi. My taxi driver was around 70 years old. In his first attempt to load my bags, he hit his head on the rear hatch, fell backwards onto the ground, as my large green duffle (nearly the size of this man) clocked him in the chin. I tried to help him up, but he swatted my hands and repeatedly pointed to the car until I got in, leaving him to load the rest of my baggage. While I have always had a soft spot for little old Italian men, I don't think I tickled his fancy. The average cab ride to the airport is 15-20 euros. Mine was 27.

I got to the airport at 6:45 am. My flight didn't leave until 10. This usually gives a girl more than enough time. FALSE.

Electricity goes out. once. twice. three times! Check in doesn't start until 8:55. One woman is working. When I finally make it to the checkin desk, it is 9:10. Boarding starts at 9:30. She tells me I have to check my carry-on and that one of my bags is overweight. She gives me a slip to pay for my extra bag and sends me to another line to wait in. 9:45- pay for my bags and go back to the counter. She tells me to wait 20 minutes and come back because the conveyor belt isn't working. I tell her I have 15 minutes to make it on my flight. 9:48- the conveyor belt starts working. I race to security. 3 out of the 7 stations are open. 9:50- they let me cut the line. 9:55- I get to the gate, but the attendant tells me the last bus to the  plane has left. 10:09- the plane takes off. I'm sitting in 11D. success.

I get to Frankfurt, concourse A. I have 20 minutes to make it to the Denver flight at gate C15. I make it, and of course it hasn't even started loading. As I move in between the flustered crowd, I see the ghost of Alison Panza. For those of you who know her, she is loud, energetic, and when she's not talking about the club Space, she is usually very happy. I find Al, expressionless, starring at the ground, shoulders shrugged, completely still. However, it only took a high-pitched "AL!!!" to wake her out of misery. Reunited, everything became ok. We didn't make the flight that day. obviously. But Al got a confirmed flight from Frankfurt to JFK to Phoenix to Denver  the following day (now today). I somehow got a direct business-class flight to Denver. Don't ask me how, the lady at Lufthansa in Frankfurt didn't even understand how it happened. I'm not complaining. But I would like to make it home. Cross your fingers!

CIAO