Well I’ve already ruined it for you with the blog title. But hear me out. ‘Cause it’s another one of my awkward stories.
It was October 2003. I had just started college at Elon University in North Carolina. AKA, the preppy capital of the southeast. Even though I retained much of my Jersey goodness (and still do!) I had adopted what I liked to think was Southern confidence and charm. However, I was still a typical college student. Seriously, check out this smug fratty look!
I really don’t know which is worse: the fact that I took a picture after getting home from the frats (while listening to my roommate PUKE, I remember it like it was yesterday) or the fact that I named this file “SEXY REXY” when I saved it to my computer back then.
October was time for our fall break, and my hometown was something like a nine hour drive from Elon. Plus, I didn’t have a car on campus yet. So my parents booked me a flight – my first time flying alone. I’m a genius college student- nothing bad could happen! Whee!
My friend Mike drove me to the airport, but we hit tons of traffic. I rolled in with barely minutes to spare. After getting through security, I ran to my gate in the tiny terminal. When I came upon my gate number I saw they were boarding. I asked someone in line, “is this the Newark New Jersey flight?” They said yes.
Score! Hop on line. Give them my boarding pass, board the plane without problem.
(Note to Continental- that was your FIRST mistake. I still love you though.)
It’s one of those small planes with one seat rows on the left, and two seat rows on the right. I am sitting in a single seat. I get situated, put away my carry-on, and relax. I start talking to the girl across from me – a fellow college student at a different school – and we become fast friends. She offers to let me watch a movie with her on her laptop when we take off. “Flying is easy AND fun! I am so awesome!” I think to myself.
But wait- I am being tapped on the shoulder by an older man, interrupting my convo with my new plane BFF. He says, “You’re in my seat.” I super-smugly pull out my ticket and show him that I am, in fact, supposed to be in 11A. He pulls his out and shows me that…. yep, he is too. Shit. I politely suggest that since his was an e-ticket, maybe he’s wrong. He sighs and storms off the plane. BFF and I get back to picking out movies.
Then, all of a sudden, a voice comes over the loudspeaker. “If there is a Kelly Lastname on this plane, please come to the front of the plane. You are on the wrong flight. Kelly Lastname, you are on the wrong flight.”
Everyone is silent and looking around. Who the HELL could be such a idiot that they got on the wrong plane?
Oh, right. Me.
So I quietly get up, grab my bags, and mutter softly, to no one in particular…
“Well… I better go find her!”
I shit you not. I said that.
And then I run off the plane.
How my boarding pass scanned is still beyond me, and it clearly makes me feel incredibly safe. Turns out, the earlier flight to Newark had been delayed, along with my flight. Which meant the early flight was leaving when my flight was supposed to. Had I looked at the flight numbers, I would have realized. (And had they scanned my ticket, THEY would have as well.)
If only I had seen that I was too awkward to function earlier, I could have avoided situations such as these! I sat down, read a magazine for about two hours, then took the short flight home. I never told a soul about “the incident.” My ego shrunk two sizes that day. Which is probably a good thing.