***Yes, this happened over two weeks ago and I'm still completely traumatized, that in and of itself is worth a read, right? You'd read the post of a troubled woman, wouldn't you? There is an actual POINT to me writing this***
- Refill rental car's gas tank or pay $9 a gallon - with two kids
- Return car & Rip Hertz a new one - with two kids
- Get on a train #1 to the terminal - with two kids
- Get bag & two carseats checked - with two kids
- Go through security - with two kids
- Get on train #2 to gate - with two kids
- Walk to gate - with two kids
None of the dozen cop cars that were at the exit were in a place where they could actually HELP anyone, so everyone was just driving around like a swarm of bees. Very tired bees.
Add to the mix that I now had a sleeping beast of a 4-year-old in the back who would have turned into a screaming diva if awoken and I had to pee like never before in my entire 35 years of life.
I pulled into a Days Inn parking lot where I saw three people who I guessed were from the area...
Nice Stranger #1 - Pretty Lady in Days Inn Parking Lot - "I gotta get back on 75 to get to the airport NOW. What do I do???" Pretty Lady instructed me to drive the opposite direction, go 7 lights, but it's "Gonna get pretty Ghetto." Great. To which I replied "I'm totally fine with Ghetto." The guy with her suggested that she give me her cell number in case I needed her. I took her directions, but the road forked so many times I got lost.
Luckily, I found....
Nice Stranger #2 - Officer Hottie McHotterson - After driving another mile I pulled into a gas station not realizing that there was already a cop there. Praise the Lord. I walked up to his car window and declared "I'm about to cry."
"Let me guess," he said. "You're lost because you can't get on 75." Yes, and the fact that I'm about to wet my pants. I'd cry if I peed my pants. So naturally, I told the hot cop that he had to watch my kids because I needed to pee. Because we all tell handsome men-in-uniform of our urinary urges, right? I also might have been doing a little hippity-hoppity dance to help validate the story.
I ran up to the gas station and had to bang on the door where Horrible Stranger #1 didn't want to let me in until I knocked 17 more times. I walked in and he told me through the thick glass that he was now standing behind (because I obviously look like I was going to rob the place) that the bathroom was broken. "WELL DOES IT FLUSH?" I asked. He shoved the key at me (through the under-the-glass-window-thing). I squatted over the toilet, wiped with a toilet seat liner and flushed - although this a-hole deserved a big nasty unflushed crap. He cursed at me as I walked out ranting something about "shit on the floor." Is he accusing me of shitting on his floor? That's a really good idea. If I wasn't already late, I should walk back in and try my hardest. I apologized several times and walked back out to Officer Hottie who agreed that the gas station guy is "crazy."
Now Officer Hottie tells me that I'm in a "rough part of town" (really???) and he'd escort me to where I needed to be to get to the airport. What a nice hot guy. He ended our conversation with "God Bless." No, God Bless you and all your hotness Officer Hottie. So little 'ole me, driving my Corolla got a police escort.
I got to the airport without any time to ream Hertz.
I have now asked Hertz ladies to watch my kids while I literally RAN to get one of those $4 luggage carts. I like to leave my kids with strangers.
Nice Stranger #3 - Hertz Grandma - The ladies waved me back because there was no way I was going to get the cart, load it up with the two carseats I was hauling and get on two different trains to catch our flight in time. So Hertz Grandma put me back in my rental car and drove us to ticketing herself. She shared nice stories of her family and grand kids and it settled my already upset stomach a bit. Then she shared the story of a nephew that was born without a femur...
Now up to the Spirit Airlines counter to check all of our stuff where the person working there wasn't an "agent" so we had to lug the seats to the gate ourselves. "Spirit Airlines sucks" - a statement I'm adding in just so Google might find it. I'm sure people search that all the time.
OK enough of my nightmare.
But the point is this: I am completely aware that there is no way on God's green earth that we'd have made our flight if these people weren't there when I needed them. Yes, we all have bad days, but for some reason these people were placed where they could do their good deeds. I won't ever be able to thank them again (although I did send Pretty Lady a text since she had given me her number). SO use this as your prompt to go out of your way for someone today. You never know how much your good deed means to that person.
***P.S. If you haven't noticed, I NEVER post a blog without a photo. So why would I publish with this one of Natalie picking her toes on a plane? I hate people who take off their shoes on a plane. I hate people who pick their feet, period. She did both and by then I was too exhausted to put a stop to it. Disgusting.***