So I wrote this chapter in the middle of the night.....like 3 am my time......while running on only about 5 hours of sleep. So! That being said, don't judge me on how this chapter turned out! Some of the humor I tried to put into it, it might be something I only find funny because, let's face it, I'm already weird enough when fully rested, so running on little sleep......this is what you get! A bunch of sarcasm, and not much else!!
Just wanted to warn you all of that! Maybe some of you will appreciate it, and in that case we are destined to be besties! :D
If this is stupid, I apologize ahead of time!! Back to regularly scheduled programming when I've caught up on my sleep, which as a college student may be a ways away! Hahaha
Okay, no more rambling! Enjoy. Vote. Comment. Fan. Tell me how weird this was, I'd love to hear it! Thank you guys, still love you all even if I am exhausted <3
Tyler's P.O.V:
Today had officially been the longest day of my entire (almost) 23 years of existence. All I wanted, more than anything, was a safe, easy flight back home to California.
But the travel gods had different plans for me.
My flight, which was supposed to depart at 1:45 this afternoon, had been delayed 3 hours, leaving me stranded and alone at JFK airport, left to wander aimlessly about and spend $40 on magazines, doing anything and everything to occupy my new-found free time. When the plane finally boarded I found myself shoved in the back next to the bathrooms, practically fuming as I mentally cursed myself for even thinking that this day could go smootly.
After 2 hours of holding my breath I was dumped at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago for a 3 hour layover, where I spent the majority of my time getting a little more than tipsy, and drowning my sorrows in basket after basket of nachos at the Applebees near my terminal.
I stumbled onto my connecting flight, literally, and was more than overjoyed to find myself seated in a window seat that was far from the shitters. It felt like things had finally turned around; I was drunk, happy, and finally on my way home.
Boy, was I wrong.
The man who took a seat next to me brought my buzz down faster than you could say 'shots'. Not only did he appear to not understand the concept of a shower, he smelled like a mixture of stale Natty Light, piss, and Axe body spray.
Not a winning combination if you ask me.
He tried to chat with me, asking about my tattoos, my favorite kind of cat, and whether or not I thought Nicki Minaj would be a worthy addition to American Idol. It was almost too much for me to handle, the barrage of questions being thrown at me worse than listening to a 3 year old play the 'What If' game. I literally wanted to stab my eardrums and bleed out right then and there. Unfortunatly, that was not a valid option, so I was forced to listen to homeboy talk just for the sake of hearing his own voice for 2.5 hours.
About that time I remembered I packed my headphones and my iPod, and I mentally kicked myself for not realizing this sooner. I placed them over my ears, the Dre Beats doing wonders to drown out the sound of his voice, which was practically the equivilent of nails on a chalkboard, and replacing it with the perfectness that is the 'Imagine Dragons' album. Somehow, he didn't quite get the hint that I had ended the conversation, and proceeded to tap on my shoulder or move his creepy face into my line of vision to get my attention. I tried to remain polite, not wanting to pull a Courtney Love and get kicked off the flight for disorderly conduct. I smiled and nodded at the middle-aged man, occasionally yanking off my headphones with a dramatic sigh hoping he would get the point. Again, I was left disappointed.
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