So, last week my mom and step dad were in Jamaica. I semi-hated them because they were there, and I was stuck in this sub-frigid environment called Minnesota.
That is, until I heard this upon their return:
They were flying from Jamaica to Memphis, and were supposed to be landing. They circled and circled and circled for like an hour. No word from the pilot or flight attendants on what was going on. Then, they landed - hard and fast . . . . . and came to a dead stop. No taxi'ing, no gateway - just stopped. They look out the window, and realize that they are surrounded by emergency vehicles and crash response teams. Turns out that the nose gear or whatever failed, and they were not sure they could land without crashing. Nice huh? Anyways, the plane would not move any further - so they had to be pulled to the gateway.
So, if you are looking for a moral of the story - here it is:
NEVER go to Jamaica without me, or I will put a voodoo curse on you and your plane.
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