Street sweeping Jesus! 8 hours is a long time to be stuck in an airport. Even worse is being stuck in a terminal that has no restaurants other than a poorly staffed Dunkin Donuts. The reason we’re trapped is because, unlike Barbara and John, the Reno Jet Blue check-in agents did not give me all my boarding passes. This means I could not move on to the next terminal where there were dozens of restaurants to feed my gurgling food hole.
Aer Lingus was not going to make it easy for us. Their ticketing desk wasn’t open unti noon, 2 hours from when we arrived, so we hung out with the smokers. John took a nap, Barbara did Barbara things, and I cycled beteeen freezing in the morning cold and sweating like whore in church. None of us slept worth a damn on the plane. Lovely airport lecture.Punchy Jack and the Barbara.
Big fucking planes.
And that got us through half an hour. Oh god, time slows down when you’re exhausted. Back at the Aer Lingus check-in desk the digital sign has updated to say they open at 2pm! Damnit.
To the Uber!