Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Late Flights And Lost Luggage

2: Snack issues

by duckapple 14 reviews

Bridget. Yep. That about covers it.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Published: 2007-01-14 - Updated: 2007-01-14 - 473 words


I am out of cheese nips. This is a horrible way to begin an important journey. We landed at O'Hare in less than an hour ago and I have to snack food left. Damn me for sharing with that kid in the hat next to me.

I have to admit, snack issues aside, I'm slightly nervous about living in Chicago. Not so much the plane living, but showing up for my first day at Heavy Hitters Inc. What I'm so nervous over I'm not sure. I'll just be running coffee. Or so say Jack. The guy who got me the job. The UNPAID job.

"Anybody got something to eat?" I ask once we'd all arrived to the baggage claim area.

Heather cocks an eyebrow at me, "Did you have like a box of cheese nips on the plane?"

"Yeah," I whine, "But I shared with the kid in the hat."

"I have some cupcakes." Evie offers, reaching into her carry-on extracting a bakery box.

"Ohhh," I marvled, with wide eyes examining the box, "Are they from Mozart's?" Only the best bakery on the planet. That just so happens to be located below our apartment back in...

"Of course." Evie says with a roll of her eyes.

"Sweet! Hand 'em over lady." I smile reaching for the box. She rolls her eyes again handing me the box. "Green! My favorite."


How, I ask you, how does a grown man get this lost? Leave it to our pleasantly plump somewhat dimwitted musical genius to end up in the wrong city on the day we leave to join the tour. And what kind of line is 'for the love myself find him'? Twenty-two years old, and he can't figure out where he is.

"Ok. Trick, listen to me. Go to nearest ticket clerk. Find out what airport you're in, and book a non-stop to Orlando."

I can hear the sigh in Trick's voice, "Fine." Shuffling. Why does he insist on carrying all that crap with him I'll never know. "Excuse me ma'am where am I?"

The woman's voice is loud and nasal. "Terminal three, Gate C-12."

"No, I mean," Oh Tricky's getting frustrated. "What city am I in."

"Chicago." Came the nasal reply.

"What?!?!" Trick and I yell at the same time. She can't be serious.

"Patrick. Please tell me how the hell you ended up BACK in Chicago?" I ask pacing the space between Joe and Andy, who are sharing questioning glances with each other and me. I waved my hands at them to ward off the stares.

"Well I had a connection." Insert face-palm.

"We didn't have a connection Patrick."

"Sure we did, in...Orlando. Shit. I'm an idiot."

"No arguments here."

Sorry for the shortness. But really. I have no plot for this. No plans. I'm just going into this blindly.
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