We left home for a week to go to a conference. We had three free days, one which we spent in Washington D.C. and the other two in Delaware checking them both off my bucket list.

We left Sunday morning in hopes of making it to our destination in time for the opening ceremony. Everything went smoothly for our first flight, not so much for our second. Paul was the one who alerted me of the first problem. It looked like someone puked right outside of the plane as we were boarding. Everyone else seemed oblivious to it. Most rolled their carry on luggage right through it. I’m hoping maybe someone just spilled food, but that’s not what it looked like.

We got on the plane and sat for the longest time. The latching mechanism for the door was not working so mechanics were called aboard with no success. Eventually we had to deplane and wait for another plane. It took so long I think perhaps they had to build another plane. The second plane didn’t take off right away either. By the time we reached our destination, we were two and a half hours late.

Next we had to wait to take a shuttle bus to the car rental area. The driver was a kind older man. The bus was rather full but he found a spot for my luggage and a seat for me to sit in. I wanted to give the man a tip but I only had larger currency. Once the doors opened, Paul raced to the rental car area. By the time I caught up to him it was too late to give the guy a tip. I was hoping to catch him on the way back.

Once we got the rental car, we still had another 30 minutes to our hotel. It was dark outside by then and we drove quite a ways before we noticed we were driving without our headlights on. We weren’t going to make it to the opening ceremony. We were going to miss the whole thing. When we got to the hotel, there was a skeleton crew of conference goers left at the bar area. A handful were planning on getting drinks and sushi nearby. We decided to go with because we didn’t eat supper yet. We got there right before the kitchen closed.

The bus driver I was hoping to catch on the way back wasn’t there. This time there was a bus driver who stood outside the front door of the bus. The bus was full, filled to overflowing. The driver just stood there. He did not help people put luggage on the racks or even say anything. At this point, we got to the airport really early so we should have just waited for the next bus. The luggage rack was full so I just stood there holding my luggage with one hand and tried to grab onto something with my other hand. Even though there wasn’t any room, people still entered the bus.

I stood next to a seat with two elderly people in it. In the seat behind them there was a family, a man younger than me with a son of about 11. Across from them was the mom who sat on the outside seat and wouldn’t move over to let someone else sit with her. At this time I was getting irritated. Not just because I was carrying a purse, backpack, and suitcase while trying to maintain my balance on a crowded bus. I was irritated the woman did not offer to move over. I was upset that I saw several senior citizens standing while the pre-teen sat without offering a seat to an elder.

Once the bus stopped, the family wanted to get off at the first stop. The woman complained I was in her way. It’s not as if I wanted to stand in the aisle. There was nowhere else for me to go. They were complaining about me out loud to each other. I was starting to get really angry about it. They couldn’t leave fast enough but I was a little shaken by the experience. The elderly lady in the seat in front of them must have noticed because she turned to me and smiled complimenting me on my shirt diffusing some of my irritation.

The family was rude in my book, but I placed a lot of blame on the bus driver. He was not going to be getting a tip from me. He probably didn’t get a lot of tips. The rest of the trip home was relatively uneventful. The first flight we ended up getting seats in the last row and the second flight we sat very close to the front. When we left it was warm. We were coming home to the cold rain. It takes courage sometimes to come home to a place of cold when we know the days ahead will be dark ones. My flipflops no longer keeping my feet warm. Yet it is comforting because it is home to me.