It rained in Philadelphia yesterday. I waited at the MKE six hours while they waited for Air Traffic Control permission to fly me to Philadelphia, at which time I realized I'd already missed the connecting flight to Munich. The next one wasn't for 24 hours; so I told them I was going home to sleep in my own bed and I'd see them at the buttcrack of dawn. The 6:00 flight was only fifteen minutes late, which is considered "on time" (try that at work sometime...).
So here's what's pissing me off. It's an 11-hour layover. Plenty of time to take the bus to the central city, see Independence Hall, have a cheesesteak, look at the bridge, take the bus back, and go through security for my next flight (I've never been here, to the bitter guns-and-Jesus part of Pennsylvania). Except after 9/11, airports uninstalled all the storage lockers, and you can't take a city bus with both a laptop bag and a duffle full of all your worldly possessions. I'm stuck.
So, a big hearty FUCK YOU to all the jihadis out there.
Lesson learned: Next time, spend the extra $1k and take the bus to O'Horrible to get on a non-stop flight.
Silver lining, I get to be one of those smug airport bloggers, flaunting my privilege by whining about frivolous inconveniences. The chairs are much more comfortable back in my hovel in Milwaukee...
The international terminal, where I've been hiding in a corner by one of the many available electrical outlets catching up on Netflix, is frickin' COLD, has no wireless hotspots, and is devoid of both friendly American chain restaurants and beer (two wine bars, no beer--not like I want to pay $8 for a Swill Lite but I've been awake since 2:30 so it's happy hour). Right now I'm in the food court (still no sign of beer; I'm hoping the TGIFriday sign wasn't a rickroll), but I'll have to go back when my battery runs out. It seems like a cruel joke to have access and outlets half a mile apart.
But they have Legos:
I like Legos.