Already talked about my People"s Express trips.

But my first REAL airplane trip in 1990 to Key West (I threw a dart at a map and whereever it landed I was to go.)

My aunt died several months before, and a relationship with a woman I luckily did not marry went horribly sour (Only my closest friends know what really happened.)

So my flight was EWR=MIA-KEY. I had the nastiest Flight Attendant on the EWR-MIA Continental who found it wierd I was traveling along and her and these pea brained college jocks in front of me make jokes about me for the flight, which was delayed.

I waited two hours for a coke and when I got it I gulped it down and tapped her on the arm to ask for another. She screamed "Don't you touch me!" The jocks laughed.

So I get to MIA miss my connection and teh guy at the CO gate says "I don't speak English."

I get to Key West, staying at the overpriced Pier House where they hit me with a charge of 79 dollars for mini bar (which was from the LAST GUEST.( they looked at me horribily as I paid cash for the room. (NO credit cards at the time.)

I had no friends, I was alone, no one wanted to be with me. The one nice part about the trip was that the cats at teh Hemmingway House took pity on me and I stayed there foru hours (before security asked me to leave.)

For the next three days and nights I did nothing but walk and drink, cry and drink, eat and drink and drink and drink (and I don't mean PEPSI> ) I did everything and on the last night I became violently ill first on Duvall Street Then back in my Pier House room. All over the place.

They sent someone out to get me PEPTO BISMOL and water. I refused to use the mini bar.

On top of this: I asked for pineapple juice.
It cost $2.95 cents a glass. They said it was freshed squeezed. Fresh squeezed from a can of Dole Pineapple juice. I refused to pay the 2.95 and the waitress siad "it's people like you who don't belong in a fine hotel lik ethis."

I hit rock bottom and watching the sunset I vowed never to get that way again.

And partly thanks to you Flyertalkers giving me places to go and accepting me for my many faults, I hope that I never, ever reach rock bottom again.

(And I went back to Key West two more times since, alone, but skipped the alcohol.)