Stranded... Again!

Just when I thought I had everything going for me... Boom! Like a bad penny that keeps coming back, or thoughts of my ex-husband going soft on me... those have always been premonitions of something really bad about to happen. And it did!

I felt like an idiot, all over again! Why was this time gonna be any different? Just because this time I wasn't on my ex radar, was that gonna make America vote republican again, and break the 8 years rule???? Not likely, I hope! I HOPE!

Anyway, I am at the airport bags and all... the boxes, of a lifetime abroad, had been already shipped little by little from all over the places where, I dunno why, I still keep a mail box and an address, just in case... of what? I will probably never know! I had taken the precaution of calling the airline three weeks in advance to make the reservation for the new date... a date that had been booked and canceled, as many times as Liz Taylor married and divorced Dick Burton! I even called to get seats assigned, cause a friend at the airline secretly told me all flights were overbooked... None of it mattered dick!

My reservation didn't appear to be valid, said one of the girls behind the counter. I ask to see her supervisor... another girl shows up, and this time I haven't paid for my ticket! I demand to see the fucking manager... a guy in frat's house sweater, who was now deliberating with the other two in front of the computer's screen, they looked so fucking lost! But the only thing that was lost that day, was my flight back home. Not exactly the flight, which did made it back to Barcelona... well, you get my meaning!

I swear, I tried every fucking trick I know, nothing worked. I pretended not to speak Spanish, spoke my English with an accent, even gaged a little pretending I didn't know the word that won me the spelling bee at three!

“How do you say...” Before I'm even finished they are closing the freaking counter, and everybody is out of there... I think they even made me cry!

All of a sudden, a bright idea pops in, I am gonna start a hunger strike! And the moment I'm thinking of it, I got hungrier than ever... Oh no! I had forgotten at the house all the little goodies I bought the night before...

What the fuck! You are on a hunger strike, for crying out loud! if they see you eating you loose! Right?

Well... what's the next step when on strike??? I might, just might, know everything there is about Molotov cocktails, shaken not stirred... but, never had to go for the long run on anything! And there are some who still wonder why do people go “postal”... Duh!

I had to go “commando” on this fucks! So, took a few pages from my notebook and started writing stuff that would make heads turn... about four hours later, I had fallen asleep on top of my bags drooling all over them! The airport was deserted, it was past 10 pm and the only thing on my mind was food... So much for a hunger strike! I then remembered calling a friend and asking him to call the press, TV stations, etc. “Tell them about the strike and so”... I don't think he ever did.

So, here I am, stranded in fucking Puerto Rico! But never despair, cause in less than a day I managed to win an Oscar, The Berlitz School of Languages Polyglot of the Year Award, a possible Guinness record for the shortest hunger strike... ever! And the right to buy an Uzi to go postal at those idiots!

Seems my luck is about to change... won't you say so?