“This is your Captain speaking. I regret to inform you that due to a large fog bank, this flight will be landing in Manchester England. British Airways will provide transportation to London. We regret any inconvenience.”
Holy shit! I’m going to miss my flight to Italy.
First they changed my seat to the back of the plane. When I complained, the stewardess said they put me in the back so the front would go up in the air. They sat me next to a big fat German woman. When she was sleeping she spoke in a deep creepy voice, repeating, “Batman loves me.”
That’s what it sounded like, I don’t speak German. There was some turbulence, and she grabbed my thigh. Knowing not to seek help from the stewardess, I lightly jabbed her hand with my pen.
In Manchester, they ushered us on to buses, stacked cases of Heineken on the floor, and said, “Enjoy your ride to London.”
I arrived at Victoria station drunk as a skunk. I missed my flight and spent the night in the Cumberland Hotel in Hyde Park.
Traveling always makes me realize, there is no place like home.