Vengeful Gods have delayed my flight... again.

I’m going to write a book. I have to. There’s just too much ridiculousness not to share it with the world. That’s the trouble really, every time I attempt to leave the immediate area to travel elsewhere absurd things happen that I feel sure can’t be happening to everyone else. Events lend themselves to the only logical conclusion one can draw under such circumstances: the Gods are toying with me. Much like in mythology, I sometimes feel that there are a large group of bored individuals lounging about somewhere very pleasant and exotic, slurping down mojitos and wreaking havoc upon my insignificant travel plans for their own amusement. 

 “Oh, she’s leaving. Hey, guys! Guys! She’s on her way to the airport. Where did I leave my lightening bolts? Someone fetch Bacchus and tell him to bring more of those little drinks with umbrellas, we’re out over here!”

I know this probably seems unlikely and above all rather self centered to most of you but it isn’t. It’s true. There’s no other reason to account for the frequency with which I am faced with delayed flights, inexplicable lightening storms, missed connections, freakish weather and out breaks of monkey sickness [click here for further information on HAMS Syndrome - High Altitude Monkey Sickness] suffered by children on board any aircraft I venture into. 

The trouble is it’s never very funny at the time. It’s definitely not helping my blood pressure. When I finally get where I’m going and sit down to tell friends of my travel woes, it can be rather exasperating to have them burst into laughter as I describe how (to mentioned but a few highlights):

• after five hours of provocation above the Atlantic Ocean, I almost-very-nearly-but-not-quite retaliated by stabbing a six year old in the leg with my pen. 
• I arrived in Bangkok to find my ticket for an overnight flight to London had accidentally been cancelled by a confused ticket agent several days prior during the rush to make up the cancelled flights from a Tsunami.
•  the kid two rows behind spent what seemed like the entire duration of the flight standing on his seat rapidly turning the over head light on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off… you get the idea.
• we were delayed due to a mechanical glitch which caused the crew to have to replace a part and the woman in front of me had a panic attack. She refused to fly and also wouldn’t get off the plane.  Enter police stage left...
• I was detained in a 3rd world country because I didn't have the right work visa in my passport.  "You'll be deported," I was warned.  "I'm trying to leave," I pointed out.  "Hapana," ('no' in Swahili) they said almost gleefully, "you must be detained!"
• I was in a holding pattern circling an airport for so long that I was certain the pilot was lost but refused to stop and ask for directions…we had to be diverted to another airport because they didn’t have enough fuel to circle indefinitely.

I've had drinks spilt on me and carry on luggage dropped on my head.  Strangers have slept on my shoulder. I've arrived in one city to discover my luggage is in another city.  And for reasons unknown to me, I've been singled out by the TSA an alarming number of times (dodgy character, right?).  I've missed connections and run for planes, slept on the floor of a concourse and sat through turbulence so bad you couldn't write three legible words on a piece of paper.  Yes, sir, those were fun times. 

My father travels far more frequently than I. He has amassed such a log of in flight hours that when you mention a plane being hit by lightening, he thinks nothing of it and sees little point in getting excited. So the part about all of this that which is most strange and simultaneously extraordinarily unfair is that my father who must easily have a 10 times more frequent flier miles than me…. he doesn’t seem to have most of these problems. And when on occasion he does it is certainly not with any more frequency than any other habitual traveler. Thus I can only conclude that petty gods beleaguer me for sport.

Under the circumstances, it would seem my only option is to throw the spotlight on this conspiracy in the vain hope that this unacceptable behavior ceases. Perhaps I can get a spot on one of those news features with undercover cameras and severe looking anchors that babble about ethics and demand justice on behalf of the common man. Until then I shall be hard at work on my forthcoming book: “Vengeful Gods Have Delayed My Flight and Other Misadventures.” I have yet to decide if I should market it as a comedic work or tales of horror… surely my next trip will reveal the answer.