Last week my co-worker/buddy Johnny and I traveled to Cleveland to see Motley Crue. One of the TV stations in Cleveland was taking us out there. It was good deal, the TV station paid for the airfare, hotel, food, concert, alcohol etc. . .
Our plane was taking off at O'hare around 8:30 a.m. On the way to the airport, traffic was just brutal. So we were running a little late. While we were walking to our gate, Johnny could not find his cell-phone. He checked his coat pockets and it was not there. He then realized that he probably left his cell-phone in the car. Not the biggest deal in the world, since he could just use my cell phone if he needed to make any phone calls. But the problem was that he had the phone numbers of the people we were suppose to meet in Cleveland, in his phone. We figured once we landed in Cleveland, we would call one of our co-workers to get the phone numbers from Johnny's computer.
Let me tell ya O'hare is one big ass place! If you need a work-out, try walking around that place a few times. On the way to our gate we passed by a McDonalds. We weren't sure if we should go to McDonalds now or go to our gate first to check in. This was a pure battle with the inner fat kid. The inner fat kid was obviously telling us to eat the McDonalds now and not care if we were to miss our flight. The fat kid's rationale was: if we did miss the flight, at least we would have eaten McDonalds. Normal rationale: catching the flight and having all paid for trip to Cleveland is more important than eating McDonalds. In the end, we were able to defeat the inner fat kid and decide to walk to the gate first. But it was a tough battle.
We finally made it to the gate and had two questions for the attendant. 1) Is the plane here yet? Answer: No 2) Do we have time to go to McDonalds? Answer: Yes, but you should hurry up. Johnny and I made a fast waddle to McDoanlds and got some breakfast. We brought the food back to the gate. We were both having a fabulous time chowing down on some Egg Mcmuffins. By the time we finished our food, the attendant was calling the rows to board the plane. I stood up and started to look for my boarding pass. I checked both of my jean pockets, not there. I then checked my duffle bag, not there. The last time I remembered holding the boarding pass was when I was eating McDonalds. I was holding it with my napkins. Sherlock Schmuko Holmes then makes the masterful assumption that I must of thrown away the boarding pass with the McDonalds bag. Keep in mind, the theme of losing stuff was imbedded in my brain after Johnny left his cell-phone in his car.
I then made a furious dash to the garbage can. With my bare hands, I went through every McDonalds bag I could fine looking for that friggin boarding pass. As I'm searching, I hear Johnny yell out, "Hey, look at that bum! Look at that bum search the garbage!" I turn around around to see about 15-20 people staring at me. With no luck of finding my boarding pass and fear of missing my flight, Sherlock Schmuko Holmes decides to take the top off of the garbage can so I could get deeper into the garbage. As I searched deeper in the garbage can, I probably looked like a friggin raccoon rumbling through a dumpster. Instead of giving me some assistance Johnny then yells out, "Hey, you don't have to eat that other half of that Egg McMuffin! I can buy you a new one!" I then turn around to see an additional 20 people looking at me. I then walked back over to Johnny where my duffle bag and coat were. He is laughing hysterically at me and I got about 50 people staring at me. My last and final attempt to find my boarding pass was to search my coat pockets. I reached my hand into my left coat pocket and there I pull out my boarding pass. What the hell is wrong with me?