Today, I got on my flight for my brother's graduation in Portland, Maine. Unable to find my mom in the airport, a stranger overheard my dilemma and informed me I was in Portland, Oregon. FML
That reminds me of when I came on my official visit to Brownsville. I was sitting across from a very obviously drunk Mexican man who fell asleep as soon as we got on the flight. As soon as we began to descend he sprang up, listened to the pilot and asked if we were in Chihuahua. I said no. Then he asked if we were Mexico City. I told him, "you're in Brownsville, Texas." Apparently he had gotten drunk and gotten on the wrong plane. F His Life.
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