Day 1: The Trip from HeLL

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I was keener and arrived at the airport 2 hours early, at 9pm for an 11:05pm red-eye flight. Along the way I bumped into Mike who said he'd be in Toronto for 18 hours before heading to Montreal, but the real problem was, where would he shower? Helloooo KFC wet wipes...

Fact #1: YVR is ghetto.
When I went to the WestJet counter to check in, this is what happened:
WestJet: Hi, your last name?
Me: Lee
WestJet: Candy Yuen Yan?
Me: Yes..?
WestJet: Perfect, here's your boarding pass, and leave your baggage in the corner wall behind me there
Me: Erm.. don't I need to have my.. id.. out?
WestJet: Have a good flight!

Great security. Hellloooooo terrorists.

I went through screening quite quickly. If you know me you'll realize this is an absolute miracle because I have one of those sneaky bin laden smiles that'll set off any airport screening test into a beeping frenzy. Little did I know the rest of my flight would be less smooth...

So I get into my window seat, take off my boots and scrunch up into the fetal position, my favourite airplane position. Then, who else would sit in front of me but a family with ONE toddler and ONE baby. Baby has an ear infection, poor thing, and wailed sporadically for the rest of the 3.5 hours. Naturally, his little twerp of a brother feels left out, so everytime Baby wailed, Toddler would wail along in a cacophony of HORROR. Faaaaaantastic. But God does not let me off so easy. Directly in front of the screaming family from hell is the Screaming Family from Hell #2: Again, Mom2, Dad2, Baby2, and Toddler2. And as we all know, wailing and tears are contagious...

Fucking kids.

Then, in a miraculous 17-minute stretch of silence on the flight, the stewardess WAKES ME UP TO SEE IF I WANT COOKIES OR PRETZELS. Oh. my.. GOD. I am *this* close to snapping, either punching the stewardess in the noggin or ripping off Baby's cute lil' ear infection. In the entire flight, the idiot West Jet folks wake me up about 6 times: 3 times to see if I wanted some juice, and 3 times if I wanted cookies or pretzels.

Oh, and I must not forget the fobs, because in every hateful, rageful story I tell, fobs are the supporting actresses. Directly BEHIND me are two farm village fobs. This is their first time on a plane and to celebrate, they have decided to take turns kicking my seat drunkenly, on and off for the next 3 hours.

So the red-eye really did turn out to be a red-eye because by the time I got off the flight from hell I looked like my passport photo. Ughhhhh.

I got to Toronto around 6:35am looking like ass and lounged around the airport for the next two hours until my connector flight to Montreal.

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