Kevin’s not at home, where he belongs. Kevin’s not at work, and he’s not
in France where he was this morning. Where’s Kevin? Kevin’s in
Frankfurt, Germany!!! Why? Why? Well, because the plane was over
an hour late leaving Nice this morning, which means that Kevin missed
his plane to Dulles.
Enough with the third person… I’m tired. I’m sore, because I’m an
idiot and thought I could run to catch my other plane (little did I know
that I had to catch a train, get my passport and bag checked, and run
some more – all in 5 minutes). Didn’t happen. Didn’t make the plane. The
guy at the gate when I walked up had a very funny look on his face. Ok,
I didn’t walk. I kind of stumbled and ambled up.
I’m in a little room, in a gigantic hotel, listening to Late
Edition while I use up my one hour of pre-paid it-ner-net. Then,
it’s downstairs to dinner – maybe I’ll have something German.
OK, off I go… thanks a ton, Lufthansa.