Boarding a plane, trying to get home from vacation. It's already 11, I'm not gonna get home until 1 am. I'm like the last person to board. Suddenly people are yelling for a medic down the tunnel. I instantly know I am fricked. I just spent 5 days in Dutch harbor because a fricking eagle got sucked into a plane turbine and then weather rolled in. I am sick to death of fricking airports.
Police and ambulances show up outside. I go to the bar and start talking to some really drunk dude. Eventually more people from the flight shows up and the drunk guy asks what the heck happened and this dude is like "bro I don't want to talk. She died in my arms." He's being all intense and weird about it because apparently he's never seen someone die before.
I guess they somehow had an allergic reaction in a fricking airplane, God knows why. What pisses me off is if they had died ten minutes earlier I would be flying home. Or ten minutes later we would be in the air and I would be on my way there.
Now I'm not going to get home until 6 fricking AM, and my sleep schedule which I just fixed is completely destroyed.
Why the frick do people have to be so god darn inconvenient when they die? What a b-word.
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