Frank in Frankfurt

After three days of airline travel, I finally landed in Frankfurt. As usual, these overseas flights always come with all sorts of hiccups for me. For once, I had to stand in line for about an hour when checking in for my flight. Lufthansa must have been running some sort of program where they brought back retired airline employees who had never seen a computer and then had them check people in for their flights to Frankfurt. Once on the plane, things went pretty smoothly. The guy next to me must have accidentally signed up to be served a fruit platter as every meal, which he quickly got sick of. Too bad it was a full flight, so they didn’t have any real food for him. My guess is that his wife is behind this.
In Frankfurt my luggage was of course delayed in getting in. Curiously enough, two passengers had the exact same bag that I have. It’s a green bag that my aunt got me for Christmas a few years who, which apparently must have been a popular present in Germany.

I am now sitting at the Frankfurt airport, surrounded by a bunch of smoking Germans. My cousin is supposed to pick me up but he’s a no show so far. Too bad my phone isn’t working and the only phone number I remember is from my German high school sweetheart. If Frank doesn’t show up (in Frankfurt….Frank in Frankfurt …get it) within the next hour, I am either going to call my ex girlfriend or just take the train back to my hometown.

It’s weird to think that I’ll be the surprise guest at my little sister’s birthday party tonight, and that I am seriously contemplating calling my ex girlfriend.