on Flying to Chicago. Again.
Tonight I'm in Chicago, again.
So this was originally going to be a post about how the highlight of my flight was the sweet mullet on the guy sitting across from me in the terminal. I'm talking sweet. This baby was cared for. Long and shiny. Short in the bangs, feathered across the ears and hanging like a silken beaver pelt down his back. That guy had been working on this particular piece of hair art for a while. Luscious.
But turns out, that is officially not the highlight of my trip. What? I know right? The perfect mullet is hard to top. So what, praytell, could be more memorable? More exciting than the perfect mullet?
How about this guy...
Oh, that's right. Terry O'Quinn AKA John Locke sat right behind me on the flight!! I die. Seriously.
For some inexplicable reason, my tickets on this flight were in first class. I think because the flight was seriously oversold, but they still had first class seats, so they sold them at coach rates. Score.
Anyway, here I am sitting in first class, working, when who comes walking down the aisle, but Terry O'Quinn!! Now as I imagine any good LOST fan would, the first thought I have is "Oh. No. We're going to crash and I'm going to spend the rest of my life on an island."
Then I think, wait, he walked on the plane. So my second thought it "Oh. No. He's walking and he's in the real world. He's not John Locke. He's Smoky."
(P.S. If you have no idea what I'm talking about right now, then you don't love me. Go rent LOST Season 1 DVDs. Now. Go. Why are you still reading this? Get a move on. Then return and read this post. You'll appreciate it more. Trust me.)
I made a plan to work the whole flight, so I had so much to do, but I was so geeking over the fact that Terry O'Quinn was sitting behind me that I could hardly concentrate. Thankfully, he took a nap, so I didn't have to continue to try to analyze his every move using my peripheral vision, thus allowing me to get some work done.
Then I airport stalked him. Through the terminal. To baggage claim. Down the tunnel and the one and only time in my life I didn't have to take the metro to downtown Chicago is the time that Terry O'Quinn is getting on the metro. ACK! So alas, we had to part ways at the entrance to the Hilton O'hare Hotel, but in our 3.5 hours breathing the same air I think we really bonded.
Actually, I only said two words to him. He bumped into me in the aisle of the plane (!!) and I said "excuse me." Yep, excuse me. The stuff dreams are made of.
Congrats Terry O'Quinn. You are officially the only thing in my life that can top the perfect mullet.
So this was originally going to be a post about how the highlight of my flight was the sweet mullet on the guy sitting across from me in the terminal. I'm talking sweet. This baby was cared for. Long and shiny. Short in the bangs, feathered across the ears and hanging like a silken beaver pelt down his back. That guy had been working on this particular piece of hair art for a while. Luscious.
But turns out, that is officially not the highlight of my trip. What? I know right? The perfect mullet is hard to top. So what, praytell, could be more memorable? More exciting than the perfect mullet?
How about this guy...
Oh, that's right. Terry O'Quinn AKA John Locke sat right behind me on the flight!! I die. Seriously.
For some inexplicable reason, my tickets on this flight were in first class. I think because the flight was seriously oversold, but they still had first class seats, so they sold them at coach rates. Score.
Anyway, here I am sitting in first class, working, when who comes walking down the aisle, but Terry O'Quinn!! Now as I imagine any good LOST fan would, the first thought I have is "Oh. No. We're going to crash and I'm going to spend the rest of my life on an island."
Then I think, wait, he walked on the plane. So my second thought it "Oh. No. He's walking and he's in the real world. He's not John Locke. He's Smoky."
(P.S. If you have no idea what I'm talking about right now, then you don't love me. Go rent LOST Season 1 DVDs. Now. Go. Why are you still reading this? Get a move on. Then return and read this post. You'll appreciate it more. Trust me.)
I made a plan to work the whole flight, so I had so much to do, but I was so geeking over the fact that Terry O'Quinn was sitting behind me that I could hardly concentrate. Thankfully, he took a nap, so I didn't have to continue to try to analyze his every move using my peripheral vision, thus allowing me to get some work done.
Then I airport stalked him. Through the terminal. To baggage claim. Down the tunnel and the one and only time in my life I didn't have to take the metro to downtown Chicago is the time that Terry O'Quinn is getting on the metro. ACK! So alas, we had to part ways at the entrance to the Hilton O'hare Hotel, but in our 3.5 hours breathing the same air I think we really bonded.
Actually, I only said two words to him. He bumped into me in the aisle of the plane (!!) and I said "excuse me." Yep, excuse me. The stuff dreams are made of.
Congrats Terry O'Quinn. You are officially the only thing in my life that can top the perfect mullet.
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