Wow. The last words you want to hear while 12 thousand feet in the air are "Protocol demands we declare an emergency landing". That was the start of my surreal "Final Destination" Friday. Mercifully, we landed uneventfully, and the passenger next to me (a psychotherapist, no less), remarked that I helped her keep it together by remaining cool during the event.
Next, I head on over to New Orleans Hamburger & Seafood to grab a bite to eat with my dad. Order something with stewed okra on the side, take a bite, and immediately sense that something is not right. I dig around in the okra, and discover tiny shrimp in it. Who puts shrimp in okra? For those who don't know, I'm an epi-pen carrying member of the fraternity of people who can no longer eat shellfish. Mercifully, I didn't eat any, but it didn't exactly make for a happy dinner. Then I headed over to a friend's house, and I thought my head would explode from all the cat hair laying around everywhere. Having survived all that, I went home and promptly went to bed.
Next, I head on over to New Orleans Hamburger & Seafood to grab a bite to eat with my dad. Order something with stewed okra on the side, take a bite, and immediately sense that something is not right. I dig around in the okra, and discover tiny shrimp in it. Who puts shrimp in okra? For those who don't know, I'm an epi-pen carrying member of the fraternity of people who can no longer eat shellfish. Mercifully, I didn't eat any, but it didn't exactly make for a happy dinner. Then I headed over to a friend's house, and I thought my head would explode from all the cat hair laying around everywhere. Having survived all that, I went home and promptly went to bed.