My plane was scheduled to leave at 9:20am on Sunday morning. I got in from shopping at around 10pm. Calculating my time to get to the airport via public transportation (I refused to spend £90 for a taxi) was 2 hours and you're supposed to be there around 2.5 hours before your plane leaves, I decided to just stay up and leave my place at around 4:30am.
I took a power nap at around 2am. Woke up at 3:30, showered and dressed. I took the bus to Brixton Tube Station and to my surprise, the train station was closed. O.O
I admit...this was purely my fault. I thought the trains were 24/7.
Thank GOD for free public WIFI. The streets were filled with drunkards leaving the pubs/clubs and I was a little panicky. Would I have to spend the £90? No. It was 5am. The bus would get me there in 2 hours. Perfect.
I took the N109 to the X26 stop. Or what I thought was the X26 stop. The bus was idling when I got of the N109. According to Google Maps, it was supposed to leave at 5:20am. It was 5:21 when I approached, walking in the street so the bus would see me. He began to drive off, I ran full speed IN FRONT OF HIM...waving the hand that wasn't pulling my luggage behind me.
HE SPEEDS OFF DODGING ME MAKING OBSCENE GESTURES.
I.am.fucked.
I'm a big girl. I can stand in the middle of nowhere (!!) and wait for another bus.
It was cold, wet and the bus stop was in a business district. The clock ticked on and I might've seen about 3 human souls. A half-hour later and no other bus, I admit, I hyperventilated and started crying punching the air. I CAN'T MISS MY FLIGHT, B!
And then I was like....
Why would a bus going to the AIRPORT speed off leaving a passenger stranded on the street when the next bus didn't come for an hour.
The next bus came at 6:20. Did I get on it?
OF COURSE NOT!
The driver didn't look at me, he just sped right past me. I started running full speed with my 30-lb backpack and 65lb suitcase with me around a bend to the next bus stop which the bus flew past as well as there was no one there.
When I approached the next stop, people were waiting for other buses. A man in a broken Spanish accent said, "Mami, he left. He went vroom vroom cuz no one want him."
Me: Where did he go?
Man: Away....
I started laughing hysterically.
Jamaican lady: You okay, mon.
No lie, she said mon!
WHAT THE FUCK??????
I had to laugh to keep from throwing my suitcase through a store window.
Apparently, the stop I was standing at was only for the buses to idle. The drivers saw me but refused to pick me up there.
There was a taxicab stand down the street. As I approached, the guy didn't even let me ask for one. He was like NO CABS! I wasn't sure if he was being racist or if he just didn't have a cab.
I was feeling like
It's cool, I'll miss my flight. I have enough money in my account to cover the change. The next bus came at 6:45am. I fell asleep on the way to Heathrow. When we arrived, I took my time. I felt all zen about it...mainly because I was too exhausted to be upset. I got to the gate at 8:17am. The last time to check your bag was 8:20. I took a chance and asked if I could get in. Surprisingly, yes! I just had to make it to the gate before it closed.
THEN, security stops him because he has two jars of jam in his case. He starts ARGUING over his mother's jam that he wants to take to the States. He asks to speak to a manager.
I'm at like gate.... 80. I have to be at gate 13.
I see a sign that says "Allow 20 minutes to reach your gate)...meaning that is was FAR..hella FAR.
I start hoofing...people are looking at me..my clothes are falling off...my sneakers are not tied...I get to the gate as they're about to close the door.
and that's how I made my flight.
lol
More on my trip here.
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