Sunday was the worst day of my life.
June 2nd 2009 I woke up at 0430; the taxi was picking me up at 0500. I got to the airport at 0520, up to this point everything was going perfect, too perfect. I waited in line to check in and the agent told me she can actually put me on a direct flight to Mexico City instead of having a layover in Atlanta. So I said why not, the less layover the better, right? WRONG! Oh boy was I ever wrong...
She told me it
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