After 3 busy work days out of state, 2+ hours of a white-knuckled drive through a North Carolina ice storm and a 2 hour flight delay, I was more than ready to go HOME.
When my flight landed just after 9:30, I grabbed my carry-on and made a mad dash for taxi stand.
[side note: has anyone ever noticed how the only people at an airport after the last flights of the night come in who are not freshly off those flights are either extremely angry, extremely drunk, or both?]
I exited the terminal to find a line 50 deep, and three measly taxis on line. Cursing the day’s luck, I texted my husband to let him know it was going to be awhile.
Then the gent putting his bag in the trunk of the third cab turned, and I recognized a familiar face - one of my oldest friends’ husbands.
Hey! (glancing at the line and my respective position). Get in - we’ll drop you off!
I quickly ducked around the barricades, dodged other passengers’ glares, and tossed my bag into the trunk. We snapped a picture to text to his wife. Made plans to get together soon. Caught up on life’s happenings. Argued over whose company would pick up our ride (his).
It’s crazy that late on a cold night at the busiest airport in the world, you can still run into some good luck in the form of a friend.