A Tale Of Glue, Gangstas and Grossness

This week I broke my string of only going to locations that started with an A (and BTW, I would like to thank those of you that suggested lovely locations like Alabama and Alaska keeping me from booking at ticket to Antartica!) and headed off to Charlotte, North Carolina.

My day Wednesday started at 4:30 am with an early wake up call to hop on a 7 am flight. I was in pretty good mood even though I got up so early because I was going to lunch with someone I used to work with on a different account that I always liked because he is hilarious and is now my client again. (Hi Michael!) I had 1.5 hours between landing and getting to lunch and thought I pretty much had it made in the shade with this flight especially since I’d been upgraded to first class.

That was a stupid assumption on my part.

I’ve been through a lot of flight issues I’m not going to go into here but this week really took the cake. We backed off from the terminal (and I’d still like to know why on earth they call it a terminal…) and then sat there for a good five minutes. I knew we were pretty much screwed at that point because normally they have you scoot along pretty quickly to make room for all the incoming planes. What I didn’t expect was the announcement from the pilot.

“Uh folks? We’re gonna have to take her back up to the terminal for a few. We just got a call from maintenance that they’d like to look at our plane. Seems the GLUE they used last night to put the windshield on HAS NOT DRIED.”

There are so many things I don’t want to know in this life and that was way up there on the list. Glue. Holding the windshield on. That wasn’t dry. And we almost left with it like that.

Oh.
My.
God.

I will say this, better they catch it on the ground than have to go through an emergency situation up in the air but still. Ignorance is truly bliss in situations such as these.

The rest of the day was fine. I did get lost in a crack neighborhood in Charlotte while rocking out in my little red rented Hyundai but whatever. Nothing like a prissy girl in a pony tail bee bopping through your neighborhood to mix things up in the hood. I like to keep the day exciting, you know?

Eventually, I got to my hotel and I was exhausted, in need of wine, and definitely in need of some food. I wanted something simple, some sort of comfort type food. So I opted for Chicken Quesadillas. Fifteen Dollar Quesadillas. Of course, that seemed expensive to me but I figured they must be extra, super delicious.

Again with the stupid assumption. Meet the Fifteen Dollar Quesadilla. Fifteen Dollar Quesadilla? Meet my audience.

Stop rubbing your eyes. You aren’t seeing things. That is exactly what they served me. Three small triangles with cheese and gross chicken.

Three.
Not four.
Not six.
Three.

Three very small triangles with no garnish or lettuce underneath them to make them look festive. Just small and greasy. Also? I don’t think I want to know what that schmutz is up in the corner.

I finally gave up and just had one, two, okay three glasses of wine for dinner and called it a day.

What? It’s part of the fruit group right?

Yeah, that’s what I thought.