Easy Jet Wasn't So Easy Afterall...

All right kiddies, lets do some quick and easy math with your newly Pho-British pal Becky…

Question: Becky’s flight departs from Gatwick airport at 7:10 for Barcelona. Her taxi arrives at aprox. 5:00AM to pick her up. Becky’s bags weigh 12.5 kilos (this is the useless fact, as we all know word problems have useless facts). It takes an hour to drive to Gatwick. The cab driver can not go over a maximum of 80mph (see previous parenthesis). There is 45 minutes of traffic delays. What time does Becky make it to the airport?

Answer: Let me answer your question with a question… Why is Becky now at the airport Café Nero at 9:15?… you do the math!

That’s right friends- yesterday was sublimely perfect that today of course had to begin this way. That’s what I get for sleeping, should have just pushed through it. It’s Tuesday morning and I’m exhausted and people watching at the airport. There is a Christmas tree down the hall just adjacent to the Boots Pharmacy and there are twinkle lights flashing above me which I find somewhat humorous. There’s only patches of lights on the grid ceiling and with the fluorescent lights shining around the effect is somewhat dampened. But good job Café Nero- I applaud your efforts to make the season bright. I am once again seated on a leather, brown, Nero chair- only this time I would say about 10,000 bottoms have visited it before. I just tried to write an MBA paper with no avail, so alas, blogging it is. And I do apologize because given my current condition 1. I might ramble and 2. I tend to be contemplative when I ramble- be advised..reading beyond this point is at your own discretion. (as it was before…but lets not focus on formalities)

I’m contemplating making my way over to get a Panini. Then again, we are at the airport so all basic things like ordering involve quite a deal of effort. Wheeling the bag over, digging the purse out of the one allowed carry-on, which inevitably is a larger purse to encompass the smaller purse and other basic things, like the work Dell with it’s disgustingly small keyboard. (sigh) The whole scenario reminds me of when I was doing research over the summer. I would be all set-up at a café for 4 hours and as you all know cafes and beverage consumption go hand in hand and I suppose I suffer from FSBS (female small bladder syndrome). So then you’re stuck in a bind…do you ask that man next to you to watch your lap top and belongings while you make a run for it? Do you carry it under one arm and take it with you while leaving something less significant to secure your spot by the window? Move to a new café perhaps? It’s the simple choices in life that slow me down, obviously. Packing up and moving to London was a somewhat easy decision in comparison when you have to make such hard choices, such as, do I want the mozzarella and tomato Panini or the ham and cheese?

Two hours later and I have finally located an electric outlet in the airport. Note to self: although knee- high heeled boots are fashionable, they are not ideal for the unforeseen airport mishap. (common sense really- poor feet). Lets talk about last night..how about that?

I don’t know how David Gray has managed to slip past my music radar, but I need to thank my dear friend Juan for introducing me to the wonder that is David Gray live. Last night I went to his concert in Camden and it was a great end to a busy day. Acoustic guitar, piano…I loved it! The venue was somewhat small, intimate if you will and I wish I were going again tonight.

Yesterday miracles happened. I have been preparing material for this upcoming conference in Barcelona for the last 2 months. With all the focus on attendees, meeting packets and tabulating everything down to special meal requests, such as Halal meats and pork free cuisine in Spain (never an easy task),I managed to forget to dry clean my suit- crud. So, I threw it in a bag and went to work, conveniently walked by one that was affordable and same day service right next to my office- nice! Also I managed to make it to the bank, Zara, swung by the ol’ Sainsbury to pick up a pasta salad to go during my lunch break and ended the whole day with a beautiful concert. All in all it was a pretty good day. A day where you have a moment of “please help me” and alas there was help right when I needed it. Beautiful- thank you!

Hhhmm this is somewhat of a long airport blog novel. I suppose I will leave it there and head off to the gate. Thanks for reading. Later I will tell you some more ridiculous stories. I’ll start with one which I think I will title- “Get your hands off my hot stuff!” Until then… ciao! I’m off to brush up on my Spanish and network, wahoo!

"DIDN"T YOU HEAR ME?!?!?!"

Alright friends, I know it has been quite sometime, and believe me when I tell you that I have wanted to write but the time has just been flashing before my eyes. I am currently at Parsons Green tube station waiting just another 3 minutes now for an Edgware bound train to hit the platform. So let me take this tube ride to share with you one or two of my stories from the last couple weeks….ehm…

A couple Saturdays ago I was hanging out with my friend Chad in Oxford Circus. We went for a brief walk of, I don’t know, about an hour and a half to find ourselves situated at the Café Nero having a panini in the basement. There we sat on a comfy brownish leather sofa that had clearly been worn by at least 1,000 bottoms in its short lifetime.

Café Nero is the equivalent to the UK Starbucks, meaning there is one location within at least every major square block in the city. What a perfect destination to walk to for over an hour. We could have settled for the uniqueness of a pub or perhaps even the local Dough Ball sandwich shop, but no, Nero it is...but it was meant to be. So after our long walk I excused myself to the loo, which was conveniently in the basement as well. “Get key from counter” read the sign…and up the stairs I went only to return with the most obnoxious red metal wire basket that had a small key attached. Apparently loo keys are hot commodities and the theft rate is high. Chad and I sat and talked while eating our paninis but couldn’t help noting the people around us and the “loo key escapades” that were going on out of our peripheral. We watched at least 5 people make the trek down the stairs only to read they needed a key, all of whom made some sort of sigh of disgust and trudged back up the stairs. I would say only half returned. One man we noted went in and after about 35 minutes we swore he had fallen in. Chad was holding back from making grotesque comments at the apparent misfortune that had bestowed upon this man to make him occupied for such lengthy time. But sure enough someone else came down with the beloved red basket and apparently the previous man escaped past us undetected. (or fell in- the verdict is still out on that one). The best thing about these situations is looking at all the adults around you who you know are watching the same thing but not wanting to comment because as we all know bathroom talk is for children and we are to “sensible” for such a thing…and yet everyone is thinking about it. About ten minutes later we all note a girl who goes in that doesn’t have the key.

At this point Chad and I are comfortable making some intuitive smirks at each other and we both sit back and watch what is about to unfold in front of us. Sure enough a young guy, probably 30 walks down the stairs with the beloved red basket key and goes to unlock the door. Two chatty ladies sitting at a small table next to the loo tell the man they think someone is in there. He doesn’t hear them and continues to try to unlock the door. “there’s somebody in here” comes a weak mousey voice from inside. The man not paying any attention, focusing on the task at hand, goes to unlock the door again. The suspense builds in those few seconds as the man clearly doesn’t know what is about to befall upon him. The girl inside panics and in a loud, dramatic voice on the verge of tears she shrieks, “DID YOU NOT HEAR ME! THERE”S SOMEBODY IN HERE!!!! WHAT”S WRONG WITH YOU!!!!”. All conversation in the basement went still. All eyes quickly fell to the ground or to the blueish painted walls around us. The man skulks away from the door and sits at a table a few feet away to wait. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor girl, I mean who hasn’t been on the verge of tears? Then again it was such a dramatic display that I’m sure everyone did what we did…left the awkwardness of that basement, finally felt comfortable to bring it up with your friend and laughed about the whole thing immensely for a solid 5 minutes. She never did come out of that bathroom- at least for the next 20 minutes we were there…she could still be in there.

After the day I had forgotten all about the incident until yesterday. I was hanging out with Chad again and upon leaving a restaurant we both decide to visit the loo. With the male and female toilets next to each other I just hear through the wall, “WHAT”S WRONG WITH YOU!!! THERE”S SOMEBODY IN HERE!!! DIDN”T YOU HEAR ME?!?!” in this shrill girl impersonation voice. I immediately burst out laughing and have continued to do so anytime a segment of that phrase is muttered.
Are we wrong for laughing at the poor girl’s misfortune? Yes, and I do feel bad- could be why it wasn’t officially brought up until a week later. Perhaps you just had to be there. But life is funny, and sometimes it’s these small moments that just make us laugh.

That was the fastest tube ride I think I have ever had. Maybe it’s time to bring back The Daily Transport….hhhmmm. Off to sleep soon. Ill share more of the random moments of my life soon.