August's Celebration IV Trip (Part One: Adventures in Pole Dancing)
Anyone who's ever been to a convention with me knows that I have a... history of accidents, shall we say. The track record goes unbroken. (Dammit.)
I arrived at the airport just south of 6:00 AM, plenty of time for my 7:15 flight. This gave me the chance to get a cup of strong tea at the Starbucks in Tyson-McGee airport and enjoy a bit of peace. I had no way of knowing it would also be my last hour of undamaged existence.
Getting on the plane, I took my seat, buckled in, opened my copy of SkyMall...
...and was promptly brained by a large metal object.
Once I stopped seeing stars, I started seeing stewardesses. Apparently, the man in the row right in front of me had gotten an upgrade to first class and chosen to pay for with my skull. He'd opened his luggage bin and slammed his camera tripod down into mah head. According to the pissed off head stewardess, his only responce had been "Ooops" before leaving to enjoy his complimentary drinks.
Butthead.
I spent five hours with an ice pack on my forehead, unable to sleep because of the ringing in my ears. According to the nice paramedics at LAX when we landed, I have a mild concussion and may need to visit the ER tonight. One of them asked me, when he saw how amused I was by the whole thing, "This sort of thing happen to you often?"
After hearing the story of my last eight years of convention trips, he and his buddy are probably ~still~ laughing.
Oh well, at least I am in the lovely Wilshire Grand, a really nice hotel in downtown LA. The room is spacious, the wireless internet free and the air conditioning... busted. It's almost 85 degrees in my room. I feel like a bratwurst. My head is killing me, my main suitcase is still somewhere in North Carolina, and I want to lay down and die.
Okay, not the last bit. I am actually looking forward to the convention.
I just hope they don't mind we wearing these clothes until my luggage arrives. I literally don't have anything else. : /
Oh, and I was busy trying to keep my ice pack on my forehead when I was getting out of the taxi and face planted into one of the hotel front columns.
Apparently, this episode of August's Adventures is brought to you by the word "cylindrical".
More as it happens,
-A
I arrived at the airport just south of 6:00 AM, plenty of time for my 7:15 flight. This gave me the chance to get a cup of strong tea at the Starbucks in Tyson-McGee airport and enjoy a bit of peace. I had no way of knowing it would also be my last hour of undamaged existence.
Getting on the plane, I took my seat, buckled in, opened my copy of SkyMall...
...and was promptly brained by a large metal object.
Once I stopped seeing stars, I started seeing stewardesses. Apparently, the man in the row right in front of me had gotten an upgrade to first class and chosen to pay for with my skull. He'd opened his luggage bin and slammed his camera tripod down into mah head. According to the pissed off head stewardess, his only responce had been "Ooops" before leaving to enjoy his complimentary drinks.
Butthead.
I spent five hours with an ice pack on my forehead, unable to sleep because of the ringing in my ears. According to the nice paramedics at LAX when we landed, I have a mild concussion and may need to visit the ER tonight. One of them asked me, when he saw how amused I was by the whole thing, "This sort of thing happen to you often?"
After hearing the story of my last eight years of convention trips, he and his buddy are probably ~still~ laughing.
Oh well, at least I am in the lovely Wilshire Grand, a really nice hotel in downtown LA. The room is spacious, the wireless internet free and the air conditioning... busted. It's almost 85 degrees in my room. I feel like a bratwurst. My head is killing me, my main suitcase is still somewhere in North Carolina, and I want to lay down and die.
Okay, not the last bit. I am actually looking forward to the convention.
I just hope they don't mind we wearing these clothes until my luggage arrives. I literally don't have anything else. : /
Oh, and I was busy trying to keep my ice pack on my forehead when I was getting out of the taxi and face planted into one of the hotel front columns.
Apparently, this episode of August's Adventures is brought to you by the word "cylindrical".
More as it happens,
-A