Anniversary Saga - Anniversary #2

Ten years ago today, I got married to my wife for the second of three times.  Our second anniversary didn’t start off well.  Apparently, all the time in the wind and rain caught up with me, and I now have a cold.  I felt horrible all day, but I lasted long enough to finish out the trip.  Now, I can go home and die in peace.

We passed the morning spending more money on stuff and finally driving the entire Park Loop at Acadia.  Up until today we had focused only on the west side of the park, so it was interesting to see all the places we had missed (mostly coastline and beaches).

After this brief drive, we bid Acadia and Bar Harbor “adieu” and began our journey down to Boston.  It was a long drive and a long day.  The only real incident happened with the hotel shuttle from the airport (after returning the rental car) to the hotel.  The stupid lady told me to wait outside in front of the Hertz counter, but the shuttle went downstairs instead.  Then, she tried to make it out like it was my fault.  I didn’t murder her, so rest easy, but it was close.

Okay, off to bed now, early morning tomorrow.  This is my last post…signing off.

Anniversary Saga - Anniversary #1

We woke up today to the sounds of rain pattering down outside.  Puddles on the balcony, people in raincoats trudging down the sidewalk, and misting rain being blown everywhere.  We braved the weather to eat at the Two Cats, and see our buddy Scott again. (Yes, I know it’s against all vacationing etiquette to eat at the same place twice, but it was just as good the second time, so suck it.)

On the way back to Acadia, we lucked into another city jewel, the Asticou Azalea Garden.  This was a quiet, peaceful little garden around a quaint pond off the side of the road.  And if people didn’t know about it before, they found out about it when we pulled over to walk around.  Because five minutes after we stopped, another six cars pulled over to see why we had stopped.  I guess we look like the fun couple.

Next stop was a trek back out to Acadia for another hike, this time an easy stroll on one of the many carriage trails.  The rain had stopped, but the wind was blowing in rowdy gusts.  The leaves were falling from the trees and showering down like red and orange and yellow rain, littering the floor in a carpet of beauty.  It really brought Fall home for us.

We ate lunch again at the Whistling Whale (Yes, we broke the rule twice in one day.), and then we went shopping around town.  After spending all of next year’s salary on t-shirts, magnets, and coffee mugs; we took a stroll down to the harbor.  And that’s when we learned the origin of the town’s name.

At low tide every day a giant sandbar is revealed running from Bar Harbor out to Bar Island.  And it’s possible to walk across the harbor from one to the other, which is exactly what we did.  The sunset glistening on the water and the waves crashing into the shore made an idyllic scene as we walked across the wet sand and glistening rocks.  Seagulls were taking advantage of the stranded mussels, plucking them out of the water, flying up into the air, and dropping them down on the rocks below to crack their shells.  Totally cool to see in person, and had us completely enthralled.

We were drawn back to Acadia for one last trip before the day’s end.  And while we didn’t have long, it was a good thing we went, because we ended up picking up some hitchhikers.  Okay, technically, I guess you could call them two cyclists who had gotten in over their heads, being miles away from their car with the dark enveloping them.  We picked them up and took them to their car so they wouldn’t have to walk down the dark road and possibly get hitr.  And get this…they were from Texas too!

After that, I took my sweetie out for a romantic anniversary dinner at Rosalie’s pizza.  (Chosen because it was packed, so we figured it must be good.)  We ordered the Stuffed Eggplant Rolls and Pepperoni Calzone, and it lived up to the “hype.”  We followed this up with a romantic moonlit walk along the harbor.  It was a perfect anniversary date.  Happy 10 Years to my beautiful wife!

Anniversary Saga - What Does a Whale Whistle Sound Like?

Yesterday evening, we caught a news story that the government decided to end their stupid stand-off and reopen all government agencies.  This means that Acadia National Park was now open to the public once again.  God was blessing our trip, and my wife finally got her dream trip to the park.

We started the day with a delicious breakfast at a restaurant called the Two Cats.  Scott, our waiter, was amazingly nice and helpful, cats were walking freely through the restaurant, cat paw prints were on the tables, and cat décor was everywhere.  The omelets we had were delicious; we give it two thumbs up.

Our first stop was the Cadillac Mountain, the tallest point in the park.  Unfortunately, the cloud bank was too thick and too low for us to get a good view of the surrounding area.  So, we went back to Bar Harbor and had lunch at the Whistling Whale, a local seafood place.  The waitress was really cool, and we liked her right off.  My wife had the lobster roll, which she said needed more mayo (not sure why that was important to note here, but she wanted to make sure that made it in), and I had the fish and chips, which was amazingly delicious.  So, it got one and half thumbs.

After lunch it was back to the park for some hiking.  We decided on a moderate trail called the Bubble Divide, but the park rangers must have a different view of moderate than we do, because this thing was about as bad as the Arethusa Falls trail.  It was steep, rocky, and tough.  According to the definition of moderate on the sheet, the trail was supposed to be a mixture of steep parts and level parts.  Well, we never actually found any level parts, so they must have been smoking the crack weed!  This thing was brutal.  There were many expletives tossed at the trees, a threatening letter was conceived to tell the rangers what we really think about their moderate trail, and at several points I’m pretty sure that someone’s life was threatened if we ever got off the trail.  The low point of the hike, however, had to be when we got passed by a couple of old people.  We aren’t talking about that anymore.

We decided that was enough hiking for the day, and drove around Acadia and the surrounding area before getting ready for dinner.  For dinner, we went to the West Street Café to have lobster.  Due to the fact that we’ve never cracked open a lobster before, we got the lazy man’s lobster, which is a nice way of saying that they’ve already de-shelled it for you.  The food was just okay, and we gave it two half thumbs, so I guess that’s one thumb total.

We then went to Ben & Bill’s Chocolate Emporium so my wife could get an ice cream.  I got peer-pressured by the guy behind me to try the Kuala and Bailey’s ice cream, which was a huge mistake.  It was tasty enough, but it got me drunk.  So, we walked around town (in a crooked manner) to sober me up.

Anniversary Saga - Pain…Lots and Lots of Pain

I wonder did anybody get the reference in the title to A Knight’s Tale.  Anybody?  Anybody?  Ah well, it’s one of our favorite quotes from that movie, and it definitely applies today.  But before I get to that, let me give you a little set up first.

We decided to drive up to northern New Hampshire today to see EE Cummings’s house, but the house proved to be just as elusive as the poet.  Okay, I’m not sure if EE Cummings was all that elusive, but his house sure was.  We even stopped at the Madison Town Hall to ask for directions, but even though the ladies there were extremely nice, they weren’t really sure where the house was either.  But they did give us another place to go visit…the Madison Boulder.

The Madison Boulder is a glacial erratic, which means it’s a huge rock left behind when a glacier moved across the area 25,000 years ago.  It’s one of the largest glacial erratics in the world at 87 feet long, 23 feet wide, and 37 feet high.  To say it was impressive is an understatement.  How we have managed to luck into these cool things, I don’t know, but I’m sure glad we did.

After the Boulder, we kept going north to find Arethusa Falls.  The highway to get there was incredible.  It was an explosion of color on both sides.  We had seen trees decorated in fall colors here and there, but this was the first time we had seen it in such large quantity.  We took a wrong turn trying to get to the park, but we were fortunate enough to run into a very nice couple from Massachusetts that directed us back to the correct road.

We found the trail to Arethusa Falls.  A 1.5 mile hike straight up a mountain?  No problem!  An hour before it gets dark?  No problem!  Huffing and puffing our out-of-shape bodies over a boulder field in continuously thinning air?  No problem!  Ten steps into the trail…problem.  Whoever thought this trail up was a masochist.  It was grueling.  It pushed our endurance.  It nearly killed one of us.  Boulders, trees roots, one to two-foot step-ups, and elevation were constant throughout the entire trail.  I just knew that after making it through this test, after suffering up this stupid mountain, I was going to get attacked and killed by a moose at the end.  Because that would have topped off this hike perfectly.

But we survived.  It took us over an hour and half to get to the falls, but we survived.  I had one of my hands gnawed off by a Monty Python rabbit in the woods, but we survived.  I lost about 60 pounds in sweat and internal organs, but we survived.  We survived, and it was worth it.  The falls were a little light due to the lack of rain in recent weeks, but it was still beautiful.  Of course, we could have just thought that because of what we endured to get there.  Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay long as it was already getting dark by the time we arrived.

The hike back was torrid.  It was as if we were being stalked by a mountain lion or something.  We blazed down the trail, trying to beat the impending darkness, twisting ankles on unseen rocks and tripping over darkened stumps.  The gloom seemed even thicker under the canopy of trees without even the light of the rising moon to light our way.  When we finally arrived back at the car, it was pitch black.  I looked back at the trail and wondered how we ever made it down.  But we managed it in the ever-growing darkness in just about 50 minutes.

Sore, tired, and sweaty, we started the long drive back to the hotel.  My wife said that it would be too late to eat when we got back to Portsmouth and we should just find a hole-in-the-wall place to eat in North Conway.  And that is exactly what we did.  We stopped to eat at Delaney’s Hole in the Wall restaurant and tavern.  (I kid you not, that was the name of it.)  While we watched the Red Sox finish off the Tigers amid a raucous crowd of Red Sox fans (my kind of people), my wife continued her sampling of every type of hamburger imaginable, while I opted for a Stromboli.  And it was to die for!  (Which considering the hike we had just done wasn’t too far off the mark.)  Another great recommendation if you come up this way.

Anniversary Saga - ‘Tis Better to Take a Coat and Not Need It, Than to Not Take It and Turn Blue

Well, we definitely aren’t in Kansas…er, Dallas anymore.  Based on how it felt when we walked out the hotel door this morning, I’d say it was closer to the North Pole.  I remembered back to a brief moment right before we left the apartment for the airport, that my wife asked, “You aren’t going to take your coat?”  And I puffed up my chest in the manliest way and replied, “I won’t need one.  It’s going to be like 60-something degrees.”  And it WAS 60-something degrees, just not at 9 a.m. this morning.  My phone read 37 degrees.  So, yes, I thought back to that moment when I scorned my wife's wussiness and her pathetic need for a coat.  I thought about it, and as Ron Burgundy said when he jumped into the bear pen, “I immediately regret this decision.”  But I’m a man, and gosh darn it, even if I’m turning blue, I will NOT admit that I made a mistake.  So, I flipped up the collar on my short-sleeved shirt, and I trudged out into the frigid world!  (And then I ran back inside and grabbed a long-sleeved pull-over thingy.)

We decided to hang around Portsmouth this morning, seeing the town, visiting shops, taking pictures (just like real tourists!), and visiting some of the local attractions.  We went down to the water (I believe they call this thing an ocean or some-such nonsense), and we toured around the piers and Prescott Park, which is a flower garden that local gardeners take time to tend and maintain.  After this, we intended to visit Strawberry Banke, which is a collection of historical houses and gardens, complete with re-enactors and storytellers to take you back in time and explain what it was like to live in the 1600s and 1700s.  But we decided the astronomical cost of the tickets was not worth the pleasure to be had, so we passed on it and went shopping instead (you can imagine whose suggestion this was).

We had lunch at the Fat Belly Grill.  I ventured out and tried their Cajun-spiced Honey Burger, which I would only recommend if you like your meat burned to a crisp and then cooked for another 30 min after that.  I think the cook forgot my burger on the grill while he was watching Patriots-Saints highlights on ESPN Sportscenter.  Oh well, you live and you learn.

After lunch, we drove out to Maine.  (Isn’t it weird that you can hop into the car and in 15 min you’re in another state?  But I digress…)  my wife was being evasive about where exactly we were going, which started to make me suspicious.  I immediately understood why when she pulled into the parking lot of Divine Chocolate.  As I sat there looking at the sign, I started to think back over the last few days.  In every place we’ve stopped, we have found a chocolate shop.  I’m starting to wonder if the real way this trip was planned was to follow some Chocolate Freedom Trail.  Nevertheless, she was denied the satisfaction, since they were closed for Columbus Day (Why exactly do we honor a guy who got lost, erroneously thought he had discovered the other side of India, and then claimed to have discovered a land that was already inhabited by thousands of people?  Anyway, I digress again…)

After a very unpleasant episode tantamount to a two year-old temper tantrum at the discovery that we would be driving away sans chocolate, we headed to the Nubble Lighthouse in York, ME.  Again, I was reminded why having a coat is not such a bad thing.  The wind was blowing ferociously, slamming the water into the rocks and sending sprays of water ten feet into the air.  Being the artist that I am, I had to climb down into the fray (or spray in this case) and snap some action shots.  However, I quickly realized that I was a little too close to the action when a wave slammed into the rock I was standing on and completely drenched my pant leg.  The things I do for love of my art!

I was so enthralled with the storm of the seas playing out on the jagged rocks on the coastline, that I almost completely forgot that we were there to see a lighthouse.  So, I snapped a couple of quick shots of that too, and we drove off to get some ice cream at Brown’s Old-Fashioned Ice Cream.  (Yes, we ate a gigantic cone of caramel and vanilla ice cream while standing out in the sub-60 degree wind.  The things we do for the love of our art!)  Another must for the traveler stopping in this area and wanting to freeze both inside and out.

And now, we’re enjoying being on vacation, relaxing in our room, looking out the window and laughing at all the people freezing to death outside.  (Well, I am…my wife's taking a nap…lazy git!)

Anniversary Saga - Just Ambling Along With a Friend

Amble:  To walk or move at a slow, relaxed pace, esp. for pleasure.  To saunter.  To stroll.  To wander.

Each day seems to be better than the last, which is really saying something after Sleepy Hollow.  We spent our second and last day in Concord, and once again we did something impromptu and unexpected. 

Yesterday, at Emerson’s house, we found out that Emerson liked to take walks in the woods around his house every day.  His most-used path was a trail going from the back of his house, through the woods, over to Walden Pond where Thoreau was living in a one-room cabin.  The two would just amble along together, enjoying the companionship of friendship, talking about Transcendentalism, communing with their Maker, and collecting their thoughts (which they promptly wrote down when they returned home).  We decided to journey back in time, grab our favorite walking hat (as Emerson would say), and walk with Emerson over to Thoreau’s cabin.

The Emerson-Thoreau Amble Trail is a 1.7-mile hike through some beautiful woods.  The trees are old, thick trunks extending over fifty feet in the air, the intertwined branches forming a dense canopy overhead.  Parts of the woods are dark, where the thick tangles of branches have cut off most of the light from reaching the forest floor.  But the darkness is serene and tranquil, rather than ominous and foreboding.  There are wide open spaces between the trees, and a soft carpet of pine needles and leaves covers the forest floor.  Here and there, patches of light filters through the leaves and a clump of new pine trees would spring up and bathe in the golden warmth.  The weather was perfect today, sunny and cool, ideal for an amble down the trail.  The path wound through the woods, around several ponds, and across several little bridges, climbing and dipping over the rolling countryside, until it finally ended at Walden Pond.

The cabin that Thoreau lived in for two years as a study in the simplicity of human living is no longer there.  According to the sign, nobody thought to preserve it until it was too late.  But the site of the cabin is marked, and pilgrims from all over the world have come to visit the site and leave behind a stone with their name or favorite Thoreau quote on it.  An ambitious adventurer can climb over and around the pile of stones and read the messages left behind to their favorite author.  Walden Pond itself is much larger than I imagined, more like a lake really.  But the pond is crystal clear with a slight breeze stirring the water and rippling waves across the surface.

After a nice jaunt around the lake and the surrounding woods, we headed back down the trail to our car.  We took a different way back, cutting across Brister’s Hill.  The spot is marked by slabs of marble nestled along the path, almost imperceptible, Thoreau’s immortal words etched into their surfaces.  “The snow falls on no two trees alike, but the forms it assumes are as various as those of the twigs and leaves which receive it.  They are as it were, predetermined by the genius of the trees.  So one divine spirit descends alike on all, but bears a peculiar fruit in each.”

The slow, aimless amble that we used to get to the pond was replaced by an almost mad sprint back the other direction.  We were tired and hungry, being after lunch time by this point, and my wife got us lost (she’s still claiming that we weren’t lost, and I just need to trust her more, but I’m here to tell you that she’s wrong).  It’s funny how much longer the trail seemed going back the other direction.  When we finally arrived at the car (thanks mostly to my expert navigational skills, don’t listen to my wife if she tells you that she’s the one that read the map and figured out how to get us back), we drove through town, located our favorite pizza place in Concord, Sorrento’s Pizzeria (having found this little gem in 2005 when we last visited), and had the best brick oven pizza of our lives.  Nothing which has been written here is a lie…it all happened exactly how I perceive it in my head.

Our next leg of the journey led us to Portsmouth, NH, where we checked into a charming little place called The Port Inn.  A very nice, very quaint inn that’s about a hundred levels up from the Quality Inn in Lexington.  We ate a delicious meal of haddock, shrimp, and lobster-artichoke dip at the River House Restaurant for dinner.  Scenic and tasty, we definitely would recommend it for your next visit to Portsmouth.

Anniversary Saga - To Walk in the Footsteps of History

Did you know that Ralph Waldo Emerson hated the name of Ralph?  In fact, he disliked it so much that he named his son Waldo.  Well, that’s just one of the interesting facts that we learned when we toured his house today in Concord.  That and he had an Aeolian harp that he hung in a tree while he was outside working, which acted as a 19^th century Pandora when the wind would blow over the strings.

Then we went across the street to the Concord Museum and saw a limited-time special Daniel Chester French exhibit.  DCF was a sculptor that RWE helped get started.  His first known commission was for the Minute Man memorial statue in Concord to commemorate the start of the American Revolution.  He then went on to do such well-known things as the John Harvard statue in the Harvard University courtyard and the Abraham Lincoln memorial statue in Washington, D.C.

We finished up the day with another obvious Halloween endeavor.  You can’t come to Concord, MA in October and not go to Sleepy Hollow.  Okay, maybe not the exact same Sleepy Hollow from the book, but still pretty cool.  The Sleepy Hollow Cemetery is the final resting place of some of America’s best-known authors – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Louisa May Alcott.  As well as the gravesite of Daniel Chester French.  It’s also one of the most beautiful cemeteries I’ve ever seen.

The cemetery is picturesque, headstones set in random, asymmetrical groupings, protruding like gray teeth from the rolling hills and nestled between a variety of old, thick trees.  The weather was perfect for a trip to Sleepy Hollow.  Gray, overcast, and gloomy.  The air was cool, and rain was barely being held in check.  The dark shadows under the numerous trees, contrasting with the vibrant colors of the leaf-covered and reddish-brown pine-needled floor, set an ideal atmosphere to imagine a headless horseman riding through the headstones.  But the best we got was a spooky duck, quack-laughing from the pond nearby.

Tired, sore, and slightly wet (the drizzle finally caught up with us), we stopped at Starbucks and treated ourselves to a hot chocolate.  It was nice to actually take time to relax, instead of running, running, running.

Anniversary Saga - The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men…Sometimes End Up Better Than You Planned

The plan today was to go to see Hammond Castle on the outskirts of Gloucester, MA.  Apparently, this guy Hammond was best known for inventing the TV remote control, so of course it seemed mandatory to go and pay my respects to such a brilliant inventor.  After a beautiful drive through the cute little town of Manchester, we finally arrived.  But fate would strike again!  Hammond Castle was closed all day for weddings, and we were turned away (along with a very confused pizza delivery girl).

Since we found ourselves suddenly with hours of free time, we decided to drive on down the coast and visit the historic city of Gloucester.  We walked along the beach, my wife got hit by a wave (that’ll teach her to reach down and pick up a seashell), and I got to climb all over a boulder field like a mountain goat. 

We went on to downtown and had lunch at the Sugar Magnolias.  My wife had fish and chips (which were actually French fries) and I had a BLTTTT…wait, how many T’s was that?  Oops, that was only supposed to be 2 T’s.  It was a bacon, lettuce, tomato, and turkey with a basil mayo, in case you were wondering what that other T was.  We strolled around this quaint little town, shopping, talking to the locals, and just enjoying the beautiful weather.

We still had time before we had to drive to Lexington for the next leg of our journey, so what to do in Massachusetts in the middle of October.  If you guessed drive to Salem and visit “Witch City,” then you have a strange, unbelievable, and completely dead-on way of thinking…or you’re lying through your teeth.  But that’s exactly what we did.  We visited the city known for the Salem Witch Trials of the 1600s.  Everything was decorated for Halloween:  pumpkins, ghosts, spiders, and of course…witches.  On every corner, people were dressed in character.  And to get in the spirit of things, we went to the Salem Wax Museum, visited shops sporting spell components, and even managed to get some chocolate turtles.

Munching on our turtles, we drove over to Lexington and checked into the Quality Inn.  The irony of the situation can’t even begin to be explained, but let me give you an example of the “quality” of this room.  The handle on the microwave and mini-fridge have both been ripped off.  But instead of fixing them, the handles were replaced with a cabinet knob (microwave) and cabinet handle (fridge).  Seriously?!  Oh well, we don’t plan on being in the room much anyway.

And to end, I have been informed that I forgot to mention Wanda yesterday.  While in Sommerville, MA, we ate at a place called the 99 Grill.  For those of you who know about my history with the number 9, you will understand that I was drawn to this restaurant like a moth to a flame.  Anyway, we had a waitress by the name of Wanda who was sarcastic, surly, and who we loved instantly.  She teased me about ordering a Dr. Pepper, teased my wife about ordering a well-done hamburger, and then proceeded to give us some tips of places to visit while in Massachusetts.  If you’re reading this, Wanda, I apologize for leaving you out of Act 2.

Anniversary Saga - Are You Smarter Than a Fifth-Year Harvard Student?

We made it into Boston today and decided to take an unscheduled trip to Cambridge to visit Harvard and MIT.  Really I just needed some more t-shirts, and I felt like spending twice as much on them to get a school’s logo on the front.

Since we had made the trek across town to get here, and paid for an all-day pass to ride the train, we decided to stroll around campus and wonder what life would have been like had we gone to Harvard instead of our respective schools.  This of course assumes that we could have actually gotten IN to Harvard.  I believe the prevailing feelings on this were that my wife wouldn’t have had an issue, but there is some doubt about me making it in.  I don’t care, though, because I have a Harvard t-shirt now, and they can never take that away from me!

On the way back to the hotel, we decided to stop off and visit the MIT store too.  I mean if you’re going to buy smart-wear, then let’s go all out!  I have to admit that I didn’t really understand most of the shirts in the store.  I was bombarded by formulas and equations that were probably hilarious to an MITer, but left me standing there for 10 min trying to figure out what that funny “S” looking symbol meant in that Mathematics formula.

In the end, I selected a shirt that used formulas and equations to spell out the letters “MIT”.  My wife bought a ginormous coffee mug.  But it wasn’t until we got back to the hotel and were showing off our treasures that we realized that her coffee mug had the same formulas and equations spelling out the letters “MIT”!  Great minds think alike, I guess.  Or maybe great minds are stumped alike.

Tonight we ordered pizza, being too tired to go find something, and had it delivered to our room.  The pizza showed up looking like the guy had thrown the box down the stairs.  Oh well, it still tastes the same, and at least it’s not on my lap!

Anniversary Saga - Sometimes You Want Orange Juice on Your Pants

The trip started off better than most trips in our family.  We were on-time leaving the house and we didn’t have to go back for anything.  I also managed to somehow stuff my fan and pillow in my suitcase along with all my clothes, so at least now I won’t complain about neck cramps and being unable to breathe.

A friend of mine from work agreed to drive us to the airport, so I could leave my car in the office parking garage and avoid the high airport parking prices.  However, fate would try to derail our good start by causing a fatal accident on the freeway that Joe was coming down.  Apparently, these two people had a fender bender, and when they got out to check the damage, someone else came along and hit them.  One of them died instantly, and the other was taken to the hospital in serious condition.  Not the kind of omen you want hanging over the start of your trip!

The delay made us later than expected getting to the airport, and my wife was about to tear my throat out in anxiety and worry.  Matters only got worse when we walked in the airport to the tune of a security line about 100 people deep.  Of course, all of this was somehow my fault…all a part of some elaborate scheme that I cooked up with the help of hundreds of random strangers to sabotage our trip!  I am an evil genius…you better recognize!!!!

However, God was watching over us today, because the moment we got in line, an airport attendant came along and told us about another line down the hall with very little wait.  We hoofed it down the hall, zipped through security (complete with me getting a very special pat-down from the nice TSA attendant…I’m pretty sure he enjoyed it more than I did), and made it to our gate with plenty of time to spare.

But imagine our surprise when we get to our seats only to find out that we have some other guy sitting between us.  Figuring that all of us would probably feel awkward with my wife and I holding hands in the guy’s lap, I asked him if he would mind changing seats with me.  He agreed, nice man that he was, and gladly took the aisle seat (which I found out later was what he secretly wanted all along).  But this was not to be his lucky day! 

For the fates, having already set up some dastardly prank to ruin another part of my trip, were robbed of their satisfaction as the prank was played out on this poor fool next to me instead.  When the airline attendant came to offer us drinks, she somehow managed to pour half a bottle of orange juice all over the guy’s pants!  That’ll teach him to desire the aisle seat.  So, here sits this guy with orange juice dripping off his eyebrows, his legs, his armrest, his tray table, and pretty much everywhere else; and the attendant asks, “Did I get some on you?”  Seriously?!  But to be fair, she did quickly grab a wad of napkins and eagerly (perhaps too eagerly) pat down the guy’s lap.  He didn’t complain, and the rest of the flight went off without a hitch.