Not Till the Sky. Again.

Well, here we are. San Jose, Costa Rica. Chelsea and I caught the Red Eye flight out of SLC to Atlanta after I rode the Front Runner down to SLC. We began our international trek as soon as her TBS concert was complete. Being all sweaty for a flight out of the country was not her most brilliant move, but she made it none the less. We just barely made it on that flight. You see, we are flying standby and it is all about what is available. And because we were at the bottom of the list, it was a great possibility that we would spend many hours in the airport. Luckily, that was not the case. It was confusing, but we finally got our seats. Unfortunately we did not sit next to each other, instead we were a few seats apart and on different rows. She appeared to be sleeping the entire way, but I couldn’t get a single dream in. I sat in between a man who may have been dead (he didn’t move the entire flight) and a lady who moved like her seat was burning her ass. It was annoying. I hate middle seats.

As soon as we landed in Atlanta, we were on a quest to find our gate for our connection to Costa Rica. We found a weird in-port train that took us just a few gates away from ours. Once at the right gate, we just waited until something happened. Luckily, the list of Standby flyers was lower for this flight. After taking a little terminal nap on a few connected seats, we awoke to the sound of our names being called. It was the Delta man and he wanted to approve our travels. When the plane finally began to board, we were confused on where we were to sit. Turns out, we got first class. I’ve never been so excited to fly. We were quickly greeted with a mimosa, a little pillow, and a collection of comical flight attendants.

The second flight was a much more smooth process. I decided to take some Dramamine for my restless tummy that kept shifting and contorting on the trip before. It probably would have worked better had I not participated in the complimentary booze. The take off was just as frightening as the first, except this time I was ready for what was to come, and knew what to expect. I didn’t have to repeat to myself, “You know why? Because I had my training table up, and my seat back in its full, upright position,” or “Destination. Determination. Deliberation.” I like to think that those two phrases help fearful flyers survive.

With the luxury of first class at our hands, sleeping was no feat this time. I slept through most of it and only woke to eat he delicious pasta dinner they placed in front of me. First class kicks ass! What was (is) a challenge, however, is San Jose. It is scary here. The taxi driver was trying his hardest to communicate with us, but he eventually gave up and turned on the radio. The bank tellers are even more confusing. “Mas poquito colones, por favor.” This is the phrase used to get smaller bills. Learning!

Well, I’m exhausted. I feel as though there has been too much flying for one day. It’s good I don’t still have the trace on me otherwise the ministry would be pissed. Sleep well, America. And I’ll try to do the same.

As always,
Derek Williamson
XOXOXO