Waking up in New Orleans on what turned out to be a relatively calm street, we played tourists and got beignets at the famous Café du Monde. Every employee appeared to be angry and Vietnamese. We asked for four beigets and the lady yelled at us and said, "No! Two! For you two!" and promptly stormed off to put in our reduced order. It would not be the first time that someone on wait staff attempted to convince me that I should be eating less than I'm asking for, but she seemed so assured of herself, I was taken aback. Perhaps she was trying to tell me I'm fat.
After our beignets, we left the hotel and found that my parent's car was still intact with no broken windows. We parked it on the street for $2 so as to avoid the $48 parking fee at the nearby lot. From New Orleans, we proceeded to drive for over 300 miles until we got to Buc-ee's where we had oversized meals and a delightful banana pudding and completed the remaining 20 miles into Houston.
If you recall, I was fairly certain I would not be assigned any trips due to the fact I had only two days remaining in Houston before transferring to LA. But of course with that confidence came an unexpected trip to humble me one final time. Around 11pm, I discovered I had been assigned a pairing that would be going up to Cleveland, O'Hare, and Milwaukee, then back down to Houston on the following day and over to Pittsburgh for an overnight followed by a deadhead back to Houston on May 1st when I was supposed to be in LA. Oy vey! I called to make the correction, but I would still be stuck flying on those final two days (including my birthday!).
Poor Nicole was left behind to bond with my family and sister who had just given birth to a ten-pound sack of potatoes. We finally met up on the 30th and flew together from Houston to LA on what would be my final commute. It had been a very long day that began early morning in Milwaukee and involved two legs just to commute home from Pittsburgh, but with that effort came an increased sense of accomplishment. This called for donuts! And perhaps Randy's Donuts knew that it was my birthday. I asked for a dozen and was given 15. What a day!
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