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

3: Ass cheeks and Airline food

by duckapple 4 reviews

Alex. Yeah. That just about does it.

Category: Fall Out Boy - Rating: G - Genres: Crossover - Published: 2007-02-12 - Updated: 2007-02-13 - 453 words


I would be lying if I didn't mention how much I hate American airline companies. The food stinks. Honestly, a half of a stale ham sandwich for a six hour flight. I now understand Evie and Bridget's packing one entire carry full of snacks. Unfortunately they were three rows ahead of Heather and I. She didn't bring snacks. I am most definitely switching seating on the ride home.

And to top off not having snacks, the woman barely spoke a word the entire flight. As soon as the sign allowing electronics popped off she was in the world of Warcrack*. Stupid gnome mages.

"Alex, are you coming?" Bridget calls from a few feet a head of me down the corridor. I nod and smile.

"Right away ma'am!"

"I like it when you call me ma'am." Bridget says with a wink and a toss of her hips. I wiggle my eyebrows, hoping the gesture can be seen from beneath the unruly tresses.


"Ladies," Evie says spinning to walk backwards in order to face us. "Calm yourselves. Save it for the apartment."

This earns a roll of the eyes from the gnomish princess. I still can't believe my host family managed to swing us an apartment for the two weeks we'll be here. Belongs to a host cousin I've never met, and barely heard of. I wonder if that should make us worry.

"Come on!" Heather calls to Bridget who stopped to stare at a boy in a hat. "The cab is waiting women."


I think Pete is closing in on the record for most paces made in a single airport terminal.

The better part of this morning was spent on a plane, the rest was spent trying to locate Patrick. Thankfully, we have done just that. Only to find that he managed to leave Chicago with us, and end up back there as well.

"Pst." Joe hisses, nudging my knee with his.

I give him an impatient look.

"What are we doing? Waiting for Trick?" He whispers, his eyes following Pete's pace pattern.

"Why are you whispering?" I ask in the same hushed tone, he shrugs. I readjust my position in the stiff plastic chair. Why is it that multi-million dollar companies can't afford a simple comfortable chair? "I don't know dude. I hope not. This chair is making my ass numb."

He nods eagerly in agreement, it is at this point that Pete stops mid pace to face us.

"Come on, we're going to the hotel. Patrick will be here at 8am tomorrow morning."

Joe and I exchange a glance and a shrug before standing to stretch. My foot is asleep, along with my leg and left ass cheek. "Fuck."
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