So THIS happened

Geez I swore a lot on Sunday night. It was a freaking disaster of epic proportions involving gross stupidity on my part.
Such a pity because I’d had a brilliant day until that point.
It started with sunning myself on the back steps of my friend’s place, admiring his big, old mango tree and feeling blissfully warm and relaxed.
An equally lazy morning followed as we lazed around and talked and talked and talked until finally being driven by hunger to a nearby Malaysia restaurant, where we feasted on roti canai, glorious beef curry and char kway teow.
Then we staggered back home to digest and talk and talk and talk until the sun disappeared and I reluctantly decided I should pack for my flight home.
It was so lovely to catch up with my friend, who has known me longer than ex-husband. He was my boss when Husband first started calling and flirting with me at work (after we went totally ga-ga over each other at a pub one night).
The thing I’ll always fondly remember about my boss-turned-mate is how he introduced me to my favourite foods. At lunchtimes he’d take me for laksa and the most ambrosial Sri Lankan food.
After work we’d venture further afield with a copy of the SBS food guide in hand, heading to Cabramatta for Laotian one memorable night.
Then our respective young families consumed our lives and he moved interstate and the food adventures ended.
But the thing about great friends is you can always pick things up again no matter how long it’s been and all the years quickly melt away.
It was bulk fun.
Until it all went horribly wrong at the airport.
First my plane was delayed. Annoying, but no biggie. I grabbed some evil junk food and a glass of Riesling and settled myself into a corner with my electronic devices.
When my boarding call came, I got to the front of the queue only to be informed I couldn’t board the plane because I hadn’t checked in.
My seat was sitting there empty, but because I’d been a git I couldn’t sit in it.
You’d think after having a blog for three years, editing a website for 12 months and now working as a digital content provider at News Corp, it’d be pretty savvy when it comes to all things on-line.
But no, I’m a ditz.
You see, I’d never done the e-ticket thing with Virgin Australia before. And they’d sent me this email thing that said something about being an e-ticket and assigning me a seat number and I thought ooooh, how lovely and simple, none of that faffing on line to check-in stuff like you have to do with Jetstar, how clever of Virgin!
Except it wasn’t a freaking e-ticket, was it? Noooooooo.
So the tetchy Virgin chick informed me I’ll have to go back downstairs and rebook on another flight and pay $120 for the privilege.
Arrrrgghhhh!
I restrained myself during my tense conversation with her. But I was ranting at high volume to a swag of friends and family as I wandered aimlessly through the airport looking for the freaking service desk (a little tricky as I’d lost my spectacles at some point over the weekend).
I was pretty close to tears by the time I finally located that freaking service desk, but again I reined in my fury as I negotiated my options with a nice lass called Michaela. Michaela informed me that every flight until 8am Monday morning was full.
So I sighed and asked her to book me on that one. Then the dear girl said she wouldn’t charge me for the flight because I’d made an “honest” mistake. Bless her.
Then I had to call my friend and ask if I could please come back to his place for the night. Fortunately he was very good about it, despite me interrupting his nice quiet evening in front of the tellie by ranting and swearing all the way through the movie he was trying to watch.
And then he had to get up at the crack of dawn so he could drive me to the airport again.
But at least I got on the freaking plane the second time.
Pity about being very, very, very late for work. And arriving in the same pants I’d been wearing for three days (and turned inside out undies).
My bloody life. Never dull.