Could someone show me the reason why this series of suspicious gragra-centric events led to my 7.45pm flight being delayed, canceled, rescheduled, rerouted, delayed another six hours and then at 1.33am canceled again?
Two police officers are interrogating some random guy who just peed openly in the middle of the waiting area.
I'm stuck at the airport waiting for 6am and sunlight and I'll be on my way home. Yawning, dancing out my sleepless crankiness as Coldplay's Magic plays in the terminal's speakers. Pained, crushed almost and wistful that I don't get to see to my host. God knows I was looking forward to this weekend trip. Heck, I was going bearing gifts. Why did it play out this way? Was I supposed to beat the odds till the end, or retreat like I'm doing?
Will we ever know? You win some, you lose some I guess. The wasted effort is killing me!