Flashback to Uncle Ricky's

Here's an old post from Vienna. Sorry for my lack of organization or competency to blog daily.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007 6:45pm, Ricky’s Apartment

I’ve been in Vienna since Friday evening staying at Lauren’s uncle’s apartment and roaming around in the city. The rest of the journey by plane was alright. The food on the plane was far more extravagant then on the first flight. I really enjoyed the dulce de leche ice cream with turtle brownie pieces. I couldn’t manage to stay awake for any of the movies by the time I figured out that the movies had already started. Woops. None of them were really worth watching anyway. American Airlines has crappy movie choices. The real problem with that the flight was that instead of taking off at 11:35pm, it took off after 2:00am!! I met a hilarious couple from Brighton, England in JFK though and we laughed through the wait. They were surprised to encounter so many “tip me” looks during their stay, and had a rather strange incident in an outdoor bathroom in central park. Some vagrant fellow tried to grab the husband from under the door of the stall. I reminded him that at least he didn’t have to pay 20p to go pee.
Anyway that whole flight delay caused a disaster. They tried to rebook me for a flight from London to Vienna four hours later, but there was no way in heck I was going to miss that flight with Karina and get to Vienna at 10pm to find my own way to that apartment. So with twenty minutes till boarding as I reach the terminal, I had to run the fastest I’ve ever ran (faster than all last semester of waking up at 8 for my eight-o-clock’s) before through lines to get to the bus that takes you to another terminal, cry and beg my way through several security lines, somehow stuff my 2 carry-ons into one to meet the very lame UK rule of one handbag only, and run past several gates to get to my own. And like a light at the end of a tunnel, I see Karina’s long pony tail in the line for boarding, and I knew I had made it somehow in time. Soon enough Karina, her suitcases, and I had made it to Vienna. With no German and a mind full of frustration, I arranged for my bags to be delivered to the house later that night. (Sadly, my suitcase didn’t arrive until Sunday morning).