The plane trip from hell

Actually, it was the plane trip from HELL.

All of the lines I've never stood in were waiting for me on this trip. At the airport in BR, I was "selected" to be searched. (Don't you love how those morons say you've been "selected.). I was also selected in Dallas.

From BR to Dallas, I sat next to someone who wanted to dump all over the relief efforts.

From Dallas to Portland (I almost missed my plane because I was laying down on the carpet in the waiting room talking to my sister on Maui and they called my name--last call!)--I sat in front of three people who never-shut-up. For four hours. They talked--loudly--the entire time. Every minute. Every second. Every second of every minute. I shoved toilet paper in my ears, but it did nothing to shush the sound of three real estate agents talking about:

-which island in the Bahamas was best
-which beach in the Bahamas was best
-where they were staying next week in Vegas
-a lengthy comparison of the hotels in Vegas
-their favorite restaurants
-their home remodels
-their kids and husbands
-how much they liked each other
-how one of their clients gave them a $1,000 dollar bottle of wine
-who had a better 700 SF bathroom
-(hit repeat)

I wanted to cry.