Sometimes, you’re not sure how you survived. You just praise God that you did.
After my flight being delayed more than four hours and bizarre harassment at MLI Airport, upon arrival in Denver, I was exhausted.
It was the middle of the night, and I did not have a cell phone. I had closed on my house hours before and the title company/whatever did not wire the money as promised.
After an hours-long snafu to get the money for my house, I did not even have time to buy a cell phone. I had to buy an airplane ticket immediately and get out of corrupt Quad-Cities. I no longer had anywhere to live.
So, my saint of a Realtor Kyle Robinson took me to lunch, and then we went to my bank when the money FINALLY posted. It was a ridiculous series of snafus that I believe borders on criminal charges.
To make a long story short, I arrived at Denver International with no way to call a cab. Thankfully, that’s not a problem at an airport the size of Denver. I went outside and hailed a cab. Thankfully, the temp debit cards with money loaded from the sale of my house were working at that time.
I did not have my regular card due to a security event, so the new card was in transit.
Can you imagine the terror of selling your shot-up house at $50K loss and then not having access to your money when you arrive in your new destination?
That’s exactly what happened.
MS-13 gang welcomes me
When I arrived at Denver Clarion, where I had stayed previously and had a peaceful stay, it was chaos. In fact, there were MS-13 gang members everywhere.
I have written and Tweeted extensively about MS-13.
I even saw a strange incidence at the Clarion. A rather homely young woman extended her arm and an MS-13 (with the strange tattoos on their face, the almost cartoonish, semi-lovable designs) young man escorted her into the wild party.
What a scene it was at Central Denver Clarion.
I walked in, terrified.
Then a nasty woman scowled at me, said the system was down, I’d have to wait.
I panicked and declared that I was not safe. I wanted to leave.
But I had no phone. Where would I go?“You’re high!” screamed the angry, obese woman. “I’m calling the police!”
Frightened of police, I tried to call a cab.
But I had no phone. And nobody outside the wild party would help me.
“I don’t want to get involved,” they all said.
So, I bolted across the freeway for the hotel across the way. I was so scared I abandoned my luggage, which by then had been nearly destroyed by my dragging it across the highway.
No access to my thousands of dollars
Upon arrival, my cards would not work.
I cried. A beautiful Hispanic woman held my hand outside. The next thing I know, she and her also very handsome Asian-looking husband had rented me a room – with no phone in it.
The woman was the bar manager, she said; her husband, a former cop “who quit because of the corruption.”
TO BE CONTINUED …