Two-fer: Flying home and Cabbies

Two blogs for the price of one! One time only.

So, I flew home late last night. We rolled out of Anaheim in gas-guzzling style. The company procured a stretch Hummer limo, which wasn't as spacious as you'd think.

We got to LAX, which I'll dub the most inefficient airport in the country, and waited around for our 5:30 flight. I opted to go to Chili's for a feast. While there, I watched a little bit of the Packers/Giants game as I ate my turkey sandwich and drank my "premium" margarita. It was my first margarita and was quite tasty.

Not much to report about the flight, which is ALWAYS good. The sun was setting before we took off so I snapped some pictures from the gate. When we took off we flew west out over the ocean and then pulled a "u-ie" and started bookin' it east. I read some articles out of Newsweek, then listened to some tunes on my iPod.There was no movie on the flight. That always irks me. Luckily, I loaded up my laptop with episodes of Monk and Psych. It is majestic looking out at the world at night.

Here's something that also bothers me on flights: How come I am never seated next to some ravishing, single ladies? I suppose the odds are low, but I usually get stuck with a married woman or a rotund dude with breathing issues or a snarffy cough. Maybe next time...

Once we approached Chi-town the pilot displayed his penchant for scenic routes. This guy was really a fan of the u-turn. We flew over downtown Chicago, then out over Lake Michigan, which was breathtaking.

My bag was one of the last ones out of the bag-spitter-outter. I called the taxi company that took me to the airport. The guy arrived within 10 minutes. But...

So I get in the car after the garcon loaded up my bags, and he starts driving. He merges onto the expressway. I made the mistake of loading up on liquids (margarita, bottle of water, ginger ale) on the plane and not hitting the bathroom before booking. There was some lingering fear from the Larry Craig issue. I like tapping my feet and whistling while in the men's room.

I asked the cabbie to pull off to the oasis. He didn't hear/understand me. I resorted to pointing and doing a "I-have-to-Pee" dance. Universal symbols are the key to effective communication.

Back on the road...he passed the exit to get off of the expressway. Perturbed, I wondered where is this guy taking me? He merged onto a different expressway. I just wanted to get home. Blerg! I punched in my address on his GPS and that resolved the issue.

This seemingly is a constant issue. Cabbies ask me for directions. If they only knew! They all have GPS systems and don't use them. WTF? When I get a taxi I expect the cabbie to do all the driving/thinking.

I eventually got home and closed the book on my California business trip. I still have to post about the Worship Summit my boss had me go to.