don't travel with me

If you don't like being embarrassed.  Or do travel with me if you like to laugh.  This post is solely for the purpose of expounding on this topic.

When I was 20 and travelling around Europe, I vowed to myself that I would NEVER travel around here again with a giant suitcase.  It scarred me for life and from thenceforth, made me a very light packer.  But here I am again, doing what I said I would never do.  (But worth it to cart gifts back and forth for the Clark family.)  The reason I'm so emphatic about this is not because I'm lazy or a super smooth traveler or something.  It's because I shouldn't have that much weight to drag around.  I'm a danger to myself and others. Also, apparently I'm a magnet for other nationalities hating on me while I travel.

Some thank yous and apologies:

  Thank you to the many Asian girls who shoved me out of the way to make their train.  Literally shoved.  Thank you to all the people that didn't move as I tried to lug my giant suitcase through the tiny train hallway.  Apparently they didn't understand American swear words.  Or be able to read my face.  Thank you, suitcase, airport employees for breaking the handle on my suitcase.  Thank you, suitcase, for continuing that trend and breaking off the bottom stand so that it now tips.  Thank you to the older gentlemen in line at EasyJet asking each other what it means when you've witnessed a crime but didn't report it.  Thank you for supporting my fear. And thank you to the snotty woman at British customs who gave me hell about my address.

Read the following convo with a British accent in y our head:
Her:  Do you know how big Great Britain is?
Me: Yes.  It's big.
Her:  Well, Holiday Inn, where are you staying?  This doesn't help me.
Me:  In Zone 1, in London.  (Keep in mind, this is all Katie put as well and she got through fine.  I should have picked a guy so I could bat my eyelashes.  I'm not above that.)
Her:  Well, there are quite possible a hundred Holiday Inns in Zone 1.  (whoa, hyperbole.  Also, are YOU even British?)
Me:  Sigh.  (but held back an eye roll) I have the address.  One moment.  (I dig it out.)
Her:  Well, okay, what are you going to be doing here. (As if I was allegedly staying at the Holiday Inn.)
Me:  Travel.
Her:  Well, okay.  (And then she stamps it with fury.)

Whatever.  But here are my apologies:

Sorry to the British man when my carry-on suitcase tipped over on him and as I tried to catch it, I grabbed his crotch.  I kid you not.  I had to say sorry and then turn away because I was laughing and also super embarrassed.  Sorry to the British girl my age as we were waiting in line for the bus.  My suitcase also tipped over on her, she yelled F*$@ and then kept rubbing her leg.  I apologized and again had to turn around to keep from laughing.  And I also wanted to say (as she kept rubbing her leg 5 minutes later), "Oh you're fine, I almost fell down a cliff and it still has pus!"  Also, sorry to her and her friend later on as I tried to close my umbrella while trying to get on the bus and almost took out her eye  and mine.  I finally said to her, "You shouldn't stand by me.  I'm a danger to myself and others."

I am also a magnet for high school tour groups.  I CAN'T GET AWAY FROM THE HIGH SCHOOL STUDENTS!  In line at the airport, for trains, in Picadilly Circus.  Gross.  So now I will traipse about London all day with my umbrella and inevitably do more embarrassing things.  At least I find myself funny and I've embarrassed myself enough that it doesn't really phase me anymore.