A flock of sporks.
Yeah, there's a story here.
A couple of years ago, I was connecting in Charlotte on my way home from Chicago. The flight to Raleigh was delayed without explanation, repeatedly.
My rule in this situation is to reschedule the flight for the next day once the delays pass 10 pm, and then find a hotel.
I am too old to sleep on the concourse floor. Besides, it's easy to starve there because everything is closed in the airport.
So I check in at the Doubletree near the Charlotte airport. It was 11 pm, just in time for the restaurant, bar, and room service to be closed.
I went out, crossed the street, and bought a frozen Hungry Man dinner at the gas station. There was a microwave in my room that I could heat the thing with.
Finally, the frozen dinner is ready to eat about midnight, and I look for silverware in my little suite. There's nothing to be found.
I fish the cardboard cover from the trash can, fashion some sort of scooper from it, and procede to eat my corn, mashed taters, and Salisbury steak as best I could with what I had.
There formed my resolve to store plasticware in all my bags, checked and carry on, as well as in my car for roadtrips.
Should I send some to you?
-- text tapped from a virtual keyboard.
Location:Westgrove St,Raleigh,United States