2026-10-08
Today I am flying (quite literally as I’m writing this) to Colorado to go to my cousins wedding in which I will be a groomsman. I’ve been to one wedding before, and that was to my aunt’s. That was when I was 3 years old, so this is essentially my first wedding. I’m excited to see my family, but there are some mixed emotions. This will be my first time in Colorado since my grandmother passed away a little over a year ago.
The journey to Colorado has been rather interesting thus far.
The original plan was as follows:
Drive to Indianapolis, fly to Denver, fly to Colorado Springs.
This afternoon, I found out that my flight to Denver would be delayed by about an hour. No big deal. It makes the turnaround a little tight but nothing unmanageable. Then it got delayed another hour. Welp. Looks like I’d have to find an alternative way to springs. Fortunately, my mom and dad are flying from Nashville to Denver right now, so we are just going to change our rental car reservation from Springs to Denver. It’ll add some travel time, but nothing too serious.
At the Indianapolis airport, I figured, since I have two extra hours and since I’d already had a rather long day, that I would treat myself to eating dinner at a restaurant in the airport. So, I walked from my gate to this restaurant that I can’t quite remember the name of, but it was something along the lines of “the farmers market.” Sounds delicious I thought. I sit down and notice a QR code on the table where I can order and pay for my food. That makes sense for a fast paced environment like an airport. I order and wait. 15 minutes go by, and I haven’t been brought my drink yet. It’s a busy day. Lots of people are leaving for fall break. It’s understandable. Then another 15 goes by. Then another. A waitress comes out and tells a family to just leave after only their kids’ food had come out.
“I don’t know why the kitchen is so slow,” she said.
Then she starts walking to other tables and telling them the same thing, myself included. Well hold on, I’ve already *paid* for my meal! I didn’t know that a restaurant could just — tell people to leave when they’ve already bought food. I consider myself to be rather non-confrontational, but I have a particular aversion to being robbed. I spoke with a waitress, who was shockingly one of three sole staff members who were running the entire place. She told me in some language that could not have been English that I could get a refund *tomorrow* if I filled out this sheet of paper, but that she did not have the authority to give me a refund herself. And that only a manager may give out a refund. Whatever. Place your bets on whether or not I actually get that money.
The experience frustrated me to the point of excitement to go to the Denver airport which is notorious for being a portal to the underworld. Yes, Hell is a preferable alternative to the Indianapolis airport.
Well enough complaining. I have a wedding to go to! My cousin is only seven years older than me. It’s crazy to think that I am so close to that stage of my life. It feels like just yesterday him and I were playing family football games at the beach.
It’s strange how long the days are and how short the years are.