Day Thirty-Nine: You're Not in Dillon (Anymore)

DAY THIRTY-NINE:  Small airports can be great; you can be in and through security in less than 10 minutes. Except when they are small airports in places like oh, Lake Charles, Louisiana to name one (a small, hut type facility that has one gate and one counter – more like a room, that has 20 stackable chairs – and a “snack shop” that was closed in the middle of the day)...

...and well, Brownsville, Texas to name two. Now, the airport wasn’t the problem I suppose although it was quite small and turned into a ghost town within 10-15 minutes of my flight landing, but it was the start of the problem – the indicator of what was to come. Here’s the problem. I used the “courtesy phone” to call the hotel I was staying at – I was told to do this to let them know I was here so the shuttle that was reserved for me could come pick me up. “We’ll be there shortly” the man says….forward to 30 minutes later (note: hotel is 10 minutes away.) “Hello, where’s my shuttle? Did I miss it or is he on his way?” “He left about 10 minutes ago and he had to stop to get gas, he’ll be there.” Okay, sorry, what? a) Why did it take him 20 minutes to leave and b) gas? The shuttle was RESERVED, so that means they knew I was coming in and when I was coming in, do you think maybe it would have been prudent to fill up prior to the customer arriving? Gotta love Southern hospitality….so there I sat at small, ghost town airport waiting. The shuttle finally shows and after 9 hours of traveling I just want to get to my room and shower, but my shuttle driver wants to talk, but he tells me he speaks Spanish better…well, I don’t, sorry. I’ll give him this though – he spoke English well, and spoke it A LOT. First question, typical – business or pleasure….I’d think this would be sort of evident seeing as it’s Brownsville….what exactly is there pleasure to do?? (Oh right, South Padre Island, spring break…I’m not exactly 18 though) Anyway, I say for work and proceed to Blackberry. Oh are you FBI? Okay, odd question. No. Teacher? No. I tell him I work with lawyers and go back to Blackberry (I know I sound rude, but I’m tired, I’m being nice to him, but I really have to email some people – I mean, he’s a nice guy, but I’m just not talkative) He apparently is….do you like tacos? Why don’t you speak Spanish? How long are you staying, a week? Do you like this weather? It will be hot here in a month, this is cold (it was 65 degrees) Will you come back for spring break? Do you like tequila? Corona? Are you married? Do you have kids? Why aren’t you married? Where are you from? Always live there? Do you like Pizza Hut? $10 any pizza! Do you need to go to Target? Do you want to go to Mexico? Lots of people from Mexico here so just say Buenos Dias to them. This just goes on and on…and on. He tells me to call the front desk if I need anything – he tells me this about 10 times. It was about 5 minutes into the ride when I asked myself, where is Tim Riggins or Coach Taylor in their pick-up truck? Can’t one of them give me a ride? Anyway, I give the guy a 5 spot when he drops me off because he was really nice after all and got me there in one piece (and it’s on the company.) So…I’m taking the same shuttle at about 5 am on Saturday morning…I really hope he’s not as talkative then…I may not be too nice and I may ask for my $5 back. Optimistic spin: When I wasn’t listening to the shuttle driver, I was picturing Coach Taylor (Kyle Chandler) in my head.