The Maltese

The series of events that brought me from two days ago to where I am now has been a trip.

Yesterday: home in Seattle

Today: Portland airport

2pm Hawaii time: HOPEFULLY IN HAWAII!

Seems easy, right? I sat at the Seattle airport all day Tuesday trying to hop on a flight. Unfortunately, it was completely impossible. So I came home, snuggled with Riley, and felt so comfortable in my own bed that I didn't really want to leave. I haven't had that feeling yet, and it was nice. I woke up at 5am and went back to the airport, and failed to get on a flight two more times. After the second time, I gave up all hope, and plan B was set into action.

Plan B: Take a train to Portland and try to leave from there, where flights were generally more open.

Problem #1: The train for Portland left in 45 minutes, it took 10 minutes to walk to the light rail, and 30 minutes to get from the airport to the train station via light rail.

Needless to say, I totally didn't make it.

Plan C: hop on the next train, get a hotel in Portland for the night, fly out of Portland in the morning.

So, I got on the next train. We made it about 2/3 of the way. We were stopped next to a few beautiful farms in Southern Washington. We were informed that a van had been hit down the tracks from we were, and were pulled up to the next station in Kelso, WA.

http://www.katu.com/news/118545764.html

Since no one knew the details of the accident and they couldn't give us any kind of time frame about how long we would be stopped, a few of us decided to go to The Maltese, a bar right next to the tracks.

4pm at The Maltese: $1.75 for a Mack and Jacks, $1.00 for mixed drinks, me and four strangers. The crowd was eerie--like something from a movie. Big place, no music, happy hour. Most people were missing teeth and reminded me of the inbred creature from Harold and Kumar. Everyone was commenting on how pretty we all were and how we "must be related".

Four hours and three beers and two shots later, I was drunk and we were still in Kelso. One of the guys I met, Justin, had a mom who was the victim of a surgical mistake and sued the hospital for a half a million dollars. She threw a bunch of money his way and told him to enjoy the next few years, take a break from college. He paid for drinks, and the girls I was with made me feel guilty for letting him.

Amtrak finally sent buses to pick us up. I made it to Portland.

When we got to Portland I didn't know where I was going and was still pretty drunk. A man offered to help us find the train we were looking for. He told us he had been mugged, showed us his wounds, and just happened to be from the same small town in Wisconsin as my new friend/traveling buddy. He brought us to where we needed to go, and we gave him $15 to get back to Seattle.

We made it to the hotel, and I let Justin crash in the extra bed. He is kind of a nomad, and I could have totally taken him if he tried to kill me. Also, he is super rich so I didn't think he'd jack my stuff. He didn't.

Kona, here I come!