In a haze that only international travel can induce, I followed the herd through the Zurich airport trams and crowds and customs to the baggage claim. While standing at the carousel waiting for my bright red bag to round the corner, a choke hold from behind dropped me to my knees and I fought for a grip on the icy hands. I couldn’t breathe. Air! I need air! Like a dream my mouth was frozen shut preventing my desperate cries. My eyes searched around madly for someone to rescue me but they ignored me, focused on finding their own lost luggage in the late night melee. A tragic, lonely death closes in on me…
Oh wait. It’s just Alison.
My cousin flying in from Korea was waiting for her luggage on the next carousel. We claimed our bags and went to find our 11pm welcome party.
You know those guys in suits (presumably limo drivers) who stand at the entrance with people’s last names printed on a stark white piece of paper. Don’t you ever wish you were cool enough to walk up to one of those dudes, nod your head and say, “It’s me, Charlie. Take me to the Ritz.”
Me too.
What I got was much more entertaining than that cookie cutter posh.
Scanning the faces in the crowd, we found a handwritten sign with black sharpie spelling, “patients: Alison + Susan”
The man holding the sign was dressed in scrubs, rubber gloves, and a mask.
Next to him was an ill-dressed kid with a crooked hat, huge stuffed teddy bear peeking out of his backpack, and a crumpled paper ripped out of a notebook that read: “eyem w/ teh dokter.”
Our brothers had come to pick us up. This was the start of a memorable Christmas indeed…
If you have fb maybe you'll see this clip of the arrival: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151284696100675
Oh wait. It’s just Alison.
My cousin flying in from Korea was waiting for her luggage on the next carousel. We claimed our bags and went to find our 11pm welcome party.
You know those guys in suits (presumably limo drivers) who stand at the entrance with people’s last names printed on a stark white piece of paper. Don’t you ever wish you were cool enough to walk up to one of those dudes, nod your head and say, “It’s me, Charlie. Take me to the Ritz.”
Me too.
What I got was much more entertaining than that cookie cutter posh.
Scanning the faces in the crowd, we found a handwritten sign with black sharpie spelling, “patients: Alison + Susan”
The man holding the sign was dressed in scrubs, rubber gloves, and a mask.
Next to him was an ill-dressed kid with a crooked hat, huge stuffed teddy bear peeking out of his backpack, and a crumpled paper ripped out of a notebook that read: “eyem w/ teh dokter.”
Our brothers had come to pick us up. This was the start of a memorable Christmas indeed…
If you have fb maybe you'll see this clip of the arrival: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151284696100675
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