Margaux Rhymes with Fargo

By run, I mean more of a meander, but that’s just semantics.

I ended up in Dallas, Texas for 24 hours last week by accident. I was traveling with a coworker to Chile, which involves layovers in Dallas and in Santiago, and our flight out of California got delayed just enough such that we missed the flight from Dallas to Santiago by FIVE MINUTES. Seriously, they had to know we were coming, just give us a few minutes to navigate the giant freakin DFW airport and get to the gate. Especially because there’s only one Dallas – Santiago flight per day, which leaves at 8:30 PM, meaning we had to wait 23 hours and 55 minutes for the next flight. In short: Ugh.

After waiting in the hour-and-a-half line to get our hotel vouchers from customer service, and then another half hour for the hotel shuttle that never came (we took a lyft instead), my coworker and I finally flopped into bed around 11pm.

The next morning, after a couple hours of work, we decided to take a long lunch break to check out the Fort Worth Stockyards, which involved awkward selfies, a TON of summer camp field trips, longhorns, a fun adventure maze for kids that we did anyways, phenomenal facial hair, a store called “Fancy Pants,” and some great tex-mex.

We did make it to Chile eventually, but geez, 46 hours of travel is a bit rough, especially when it’s unexpected. Next time I’ll pack more underwear in my carry-on.