So, this week, my wife told me that our Friday night was going to be kind of lame because we had to pick someone up from the airport. She told me his name was, "Nelson Foot." I thought that sounded nerdy, but I went on about my business.
Come Friday afternoon, I had forgotten all about this and asked what we were going to be doing that night. She reminded me of our duty to Mr. Foot, and so I figured we'd just hang out after we dropped him off at his hotel.
We make it to the airport JUST on time. I'm nervous for Christi, because I don't want this guy to be mad or anything that we were late. I then asked her, "Do you know what he looks like? How are you going to pick him out?" to which she replied, "I was going to have a sign ready, but I ran out of time."
Laughing inside, I asked her, "soooo....?"
She said, "He's wearing a suit. We live in Arkansas. It should be easy."
I said, "okay." Then, in an effort to make the situation better, I asked, "Why don't we make a sign?" So we did. We made the crappiest sign in airport history. My 2 yr-old nephew could make a better sign. No really...he could.
So we're watching the monitor that shows who's walking through the gates (pretty cool airport gadget), and I look down to glance at my phone for a second, just missing the man we were to be picking up. Christi didn't, though.
I pick my head up to see my friend Juan riding down the escalator.
My first response was followed by the thought, "What's Juan doing here? Random business trip?" Yeah, Mark. Juan showed up on a business trip...to Little Rock, Arkansas, and he decided not to tell you.
YOU MORON, THIS IS YOUR SURPRISE!!! There was no Nelson Foot after all. After I picked my jaw off the floor, we got his stuff, left, went to eat, and here I am, with my best friend at my side again. Pretty cool birthday present. Thanks, Juan :).