The waiting game sucks, let's play Hungry, Hungry Hippos

Well, there's a familar sight...

I don't know what's going on this trip. Seriously. The trip here was fine, but ever since I started winging it on the bike, every time I've come up against scheduled transportation I've had to wait 5, 4.5, and 6 hours respectively. That's right, 6 hours at the airport this morning. An unexplained switch from a 10:25 departure to a delayed 1:25 departure now has me questioning what exactly I did to upset the travel gods. The 3 hour delay, combined with the 3 hour pre-flight recommended arrival time, now has me grudgingly paying for jacked up wi-fi and eating 6 dollar bags of candy while watching the battery drain away on my laptop, and with it any hope of being able to watch the movies that I brought along for the plane. If and when it finally decides to show up. And yes, I'm aware that they play movies on the plane, but you'll forgive me if I'm less than ecstatic about another viewing of 'Confessions of a Shopaholic'...

Also of note, had I known about the delay, I could have easily returned Suzy to the rental place this morning, and avoided the pleasant phone call to which I had the pleasure of being part of just a few moments ago. For, as feared, the rental place was indeed closed for the holiday when I went yesterday, so with no other options, I chained the bike to a large metal workbench right outside of their back loading docks, where it would easily be seen when they got in this morning, attached the keys via a combination lock, and emailed them the combination and explanation. Then I called this morning to confirm that it all went down smoothly, expecting a simple confirmation, and maybe even a few accolades in regard to my ingenuity. Unfortunately the gent that I spoke to didn't see eye-to-eye with me on the matter. For, rather than checking his email, he hastily sawed off the lock and berated me for being lucky that the bike wasn't stolen during the night. Because apparently, even secured with a heavy chain to a 400 pound workbench isn't enough to keep a bike from being stolen when your business is in the middle of the fucking ghetto. I may be meek, most of the time, but his tone and accusations combined with my having just seen the 3 hour delay pop up on the screen, created a rather unpleasant Travis who eventually got tired of his shit and told him I'd call back on Thursday, when the gentleman that I had dealt with in booking and picking up the bike was in next. Well, maybe not in so many words. God, I hope I get my deposit back...