I’m not normally one to assign blame. My dad raised me to take responsibility in the face of adversity. (Although he also raised me to take a little bit of everything on my dinner plate onto my fork at once – what the hell is that about?) But sometimes it takes a real man to understand when he has been let down, and that manly man must then point his finger and say, “He did it – he’s the nanny nanny poo poo who did it!”
“It” here, of course, doesn’t refer to that minor drug trafficking charge I got when I mixed up my Claritin with my uppers, or that time “massage” misunderstanding (which was purely an issue of regional dialects). No, “it” refers to neglecting [redacted]. I had planned to come back from
Instead, though, Mother Nature conspired with the powers that be at JetBlue to take me out back to the tool shed and spill blue paint on me. The day of my impending departure, I sat at a makeshift desk in the
Long story short, JetBlue pussied out (Birds fly in the rain all the time!) and I was stuck in
Like I said though: I’m only angry with JetBlue. It seems their record of pissing people off is stellar. In fact, I imagine a huge convention center full or air travelers with some notable speaker like Edward James Olmos holding court, saying, “Everyone, raise your hand if you haven’t been screwed by JetBlue,” and the only person to raise their hand is a six-month old baby, at which point Edward James Olmos is like, “That’s one smart baby!” And if it wasn’t for the unlimited Terra chips and the fact that I watched the season finale of Top Chef on my flight up to
All the anger and aggression, though, dissipated away upon returning home to Brooke and Puppy, who was apparently so distraught at my absence that he sometimes laid prostrate on the bed, staring at my pillow.
So when I came through the door, a bleary-eyed Odysseus returning home to his roost, I was greeted with all the love an affection a man could hope for.
“You’d better not be pregnant with puppies!”
All I have to say is this: If you’re the kind of person who requires validation on a daily basis, then a dog is the way to go. It was like Puppy was trying to talk to me, in his worn away British lilt, saying, “Oh how happy I am that you’re returned!” Although, and there cold be some merit to this, Brooke likes to think that what Puppy’s really thinking is that he and Brooke are the mommy and daddy, and me (Johnny-come-lately to the scene), I’m the pet. So when they came home from the airport without me, Puppy was like, “Oh no, we forgot Dan!” And then he proceeded to look for me throughout the house and all over the two block radius around our apartment. And when I finally came through the door six days later, he was simply relieved that I, being a dim-witted pet, had found my way home, and a the weight of accountability had been lifted from his conscience: It wasn’t his fault that I was lost all alone somewhere, wandering the streets, trying desperately to return to my warm, loving home.
It was JetBlue’s.