I Hate Detroit

When I awoke at 11:20 on the plane from Minnesota to Detroit I realized my next flight left at 12, panic started to sink in. After we got off the plane at 11:40 and I found my flight to be on the other side of the airport, I almost started to cry. I started to tear when I realized Detroit is the Hell of all architectural anything and there are more stairs in there than a Tibetan monastery. I was running and running and finally got there at 11:55 only to find out they were running late and would begin boarding momentarily. In my tired, cranky, panicky, crying state I almost punched the happy man sitting next to me in the nose. That bastard.