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.