Homeward Bound!




Once again, I awake to having to leave England. I was rather sad to be honest. And not just because I was leaving too early to get my doggone full English breakfast.

I had to be at the tube by 7 to be at the airport by 8. Ah well. 

I crept out of The Penn Club, putting my key behind the 'Closed' sign on the reception desk. I breathed a sigh of relief that I didn't have to deal with the Harpie. Still annoyed that I paid a good deal for a full brekki and won't get it.

There was no rain to enjoy as I walked the short way to the Russell Square tube line. Just a quiet Sunday morning. I was hoping to hear church bells in the distance, but I suppose it was a bit too early for that as well.

I got down into the tube station and was greeted with a surreal site:

The station was eerily empty. 
It was a little creepy in a way, but I thought it made an interesting visual.

 I sat and waited for the next train totally expecting it to be void of any other human inhabitants.  I couldn't have been more wrong.



About five seconds after the photo was taken, HORDES of people piled into the station. 
Hordes of people. HORDES!


The next train arrived and it was packed to the gills. Who the hell travels around London at 7 am on a Sunday? Answer: EVERYONE! Wow! What the hell was going on? It was so annoying.

Whatever the case, I took my roller bag and my lazy butt into the train. There were no seats so I posted myself up against the wall and had a seat on my hard case. (One of the few advantages to having a nice hard case I suppose. I don't think my big soft one would hold my weight.) 
Eventually I made it Heathrow.
Guess I know where everyone was going.


There was a line to check into my flight. I don't usually pay attention to mergers and whatnot, but I have since found out that VA has merged with Delta. GAG!!!! Maybe that's what was up. I don't know. I didn't want that doggone early flight, but I was using points, so I had to take what I got. BLAH!

I finally got through check in and security with, thankfully, an aisle seat in the extra legroom section. At least there's that.

This time, I tried the cheapest of the buy-in lounges at Heathrow. This one is called Servicair Executive Lounge.

It wasn't bad. It was cheap - about 30 bucks, so it was more like a United Lounge states side. At this time in the morning there was no hot meal option. I later found out that the hot meals are put out around 11. In this case it was to be soup. 


It didn't matter. They had liquor, (for me, wine) and coffee or tea and muesli. I'm good to go.


My first serving. After this I had more wine. Then more. DON'T JUDGE ME!



Liquor Bar





A couple of hours later, I trudged through the economy 'scum' line to get on the plane.

I know, I know... You already know what I'm going to say. And yet, I must.

YES, there were screaming children on this plane. About 5 feet from me.

Now hang on a second. It has come to my attention that some people in this day and age think that it's ridiculous to complain about 'a kid being a kid', and 'kids will just do what they want.'  This has caused such angst and annoyance in me that I will defend my position. Pardon me whilst I retrieve my soapbox.
Retrieved.

I have, and will continue to maintain that in spite of all of the God given talent in certain facets, I am still a person. A person, person. A human person. Nothing different. Nothing 'special'. I was one of these toddlers on a plane. Did I squawk and screech and, yes BARK in the face of other passengers? No! Did I scream for no reason? No! Did I run down the aisle of the plane bapping every armrest on the way? NO! 

Why didn't I do these things? Because my MOTHER, a.k.a. Edie Baby, a.k.a. Momster, a.k.a. The Hag, would purse her lips and squish up her face, give me 'the look' and threaten to pinch or inflict some other type of bodily harm upon my person. Did she do it? No. Why? Because I sat the hell down and behaved. Again, why? BECAUSE I FEAR THE WRATH OF EDIE!

So if your kid barks in my face, it's your fault! You are the one who should be stabbed repeatedly in the throat, hung upside down, bled dry and your lifeless body fed to feral pigs! You are the one who should be eviscerated with a butter knife. YOU are the one who should have your teeth drilled down to the nerve. YOU!

And if your kid has some medical issue and can't relax and for some ungodly reason you don't want to treat this through chemistry, there are herbal alternatives. Melatonin, Valerian Root and in some cases Belladonna. LOOK IT UP!  And for @#$%^! sake, DISCIPLINE YOUR KIDS! And get off my lawn!

But I digress...

I will skip over the part where I'm sitting next to an old Russian couple which ended up being a nightmare because for some reason they thought I'd be a wonderful interpreter. I'll pass over that, and give you this:

These two girls were sitting in front of me. I've seen a lot of things on a plane, but never this. Gotta give them props for not 'frontin'.'


I'm not sure if it's because of the merger with above listed domestic hot mess, but it felt like years and years and years before we got served 'dinner'. I even had to dig in my bag and get out one of my emergency bars. Granted, I may have been feeling the cheap wine hit my stomach, but whatever. Then about a year and a half after that, after trying to mimic 'chicken' and 'mooo' for the Russians next to me, I got my dinner. I think it was lasagna. And 10 pasta shells with ranch dressing on it. Nothing like something nutritious! 

The Russians both got the chicken.


And hours and hours and hours, child screaming hours later, I was offered a vegetarian or pepperoni thingy. I chose veggie. I got pepperoni. Pretty much par for the course as far as things are going during this flight.


And then an hour or so before we landed, tea time. Egg salad finger sandwiches and coffee. Mmmm... not really. I pretty much dumped the whole doggone thing.


We did indeed land safely. And again, LAX and VA evidently were at odds as it took about an hour and half to get the luggage. However I was entertained by the Border Patrol going after the couple with the barking kid for smuggling fruit into the US. The fruit sniffing doggy came around about three times while I was waiting for my one whole bag. I guess if you check in early on a point ticket your bag gets stuffed into the remote nether regions of the bowels of the plane. That image made me laugh as I pulled the germ jelly out of my bag and liberally squirted myself and said bag.

They say you get what you pay for. I'm not certain that is always the case, but in this instance... I may have gotten what I deserved.Will it cause me to run away and swear off airline travel for the rest of eternity? No. It just sucked. It happens. 


I passed through immigration without much ado. My ride showed up and I rode all the way home. When I got there, this was waiting for me:

And all was right with the world.