Funny how the rage subsides as I continue to drink

Right. We board the flight at 4:45 and I'm pleasantly surprised to see it's a larger aircraft, a Saab 340 or something. I actually turn to Michael and say, "It's a Saab. I feel a little more confident now".

Never say shit like that. Never, never say that.

We taxi out to the run way and sit, and sit and sit and sit and then the pilot comes on and says there are "electrical issues" and we're going to go back to the terminal so they can see if they can fix them.

All I could do was laugh. I mean, what thing did we fail to do or do that we shouldn't have done that would've delayed us three times from leaving Penticton?

We disembarked and went to the little cafe and I had an alcoholic beverage. Sadly, the cafe closed shortly after which sucked ass big time because - lo and behold - there was another flight that we could get on... at 7:30pm. We had been at the airport since 4pm so we had another couple of hours to kill.

Penticton airport, Penticton airport. Um, I think it's roughly the same square footage as the house that I grew up in. No, I'm not lying. Once the little cafe closed there was SFA to do so I entertained myself by irritating the shit out of Michael, taking video of the other stranded passengers and weighing myself on the luggage scale (even though - gasp! - it specifically said not to stand on it).

The plane we left on at 7:45? A Beechcraft. Holds like 20 people. Scary. You have to duck to get down the aisle. One seat on either side. We had to take turns flying it. Not all of the above is true.