I just got back from San Francisco. I got food poisoning. My confidence waivers in the Shrimp Scampi at Cioppino's on Fisherman's Wharf.
Up until 45 minutes before hotel checkout on Friday, I was curled up under the bed covers in a suite at the Argonaut Hotel, shivering, naked, crying, and unable to keep anything down. Mr. SoCal insisted we make our flight as scheduled. "You can do this," he said. He had to dress me like a kid, stuff me in a car, and get me to the airport. Like something out of "Weekend at Bernie's", I was afraid the airline might suspect something was up and refuse to let me on. But we made it. I was barely keeping it together.
I had an aisle seat on a packed United flight back to O.C., where the stewardess stood inches from me to run through the emergency demonstration drill. She put the flotation device around her neck, looped the strap around her waist by throwing her elbow back, knocking me in the head with a sharp blow to the temple. The seconds following that are a little hazy. The next thing I remember she had stopped the drill, stooping down to my level to meet my eyes, and asking repeatedly if I was okay. After a moment, I said I was okay but maybe due to my delayed and unconvincing response, she didn't really believe me. Maybe they're also a little overly cautious due to the recent event with United. (Eyephone, I swear I didn't order the "fruit punch"!)
I am just glad that the sickness set in the morning we were leaving rather that as soon as we got there. If we had spent all that money and hadn't been able to do a single thing, then I would have been really sick for entirely different reasons.
I am recovering at home now. I am really sad that I had to miss Easter with my family. It's my most favorite day of the year. Happy Resurrection Day, everyone.