So, I get to the airport on time, park the car, get to the security line and THEN the fun starts with the asshat who is trying to take a duffel bag the size of dorm fridge through with FULL SIZE bottles of EVERYTHING. Uh yeah buddy, because those signs all over the airport , in the security line and at the checkpoint obviously did not apply to you today; thousands of others but not you. But good catch on emptying your pockets and removing your shoes MENSA boy. And I am sure you all are stunned who is cranky when a certain bag has to be run through three more times. I am pretty sure his pocket knife and brass knuckles were goners too. Just a wild guess. The guy behind me in the security line did have a great idea. To fly you have to pass a test, like the written part of a drivers test. If you pass you get a sticker on your Passport, license or ID and if not you have to keep taking the test until you are competent in what you need to know to fly. It sure would make the lines zip right along!
Anyhoo -after boarding my favorite mode of transport (a prop job) a mere 22 minutes later we were in Miami and I now had the fun anticipation of a four hour layover. This was way too much time to leave me a) alone with my thoughts b) in my fragile state of being a new (3 month) non smoker and c) on Xanax for flying fear and Soma for a bad back. Oh Shit!!! The Thought Police had a field day with me, I am sure upon trial and conviction I now have several life and death sentences. Allow me to give you some examples:
Hey foreign visitors - when you are in the freaking states, not only do you drive on our sides of the road but you walk on the corresponding sides too. Get it right. And yes - I will continue to walk right into you. You are on my side of the corridor.
Don't ask me what time it is - especially in another language or by pointing at your wrist! Your cell phone you are yakking on has a clock, look at it you fool. Oh - and I know enough basic French and Spanish to ask the time when I am in a foreign country. It is not my job to speak your language.
Ma'am those leggings do not flatter your ass or your camel toe even if they are black. Sorry.
I did notice one airline seemingly having "Tranny Flight Attendant" Day. If not these people I saw were celebrating "Let Your Three Year Old Daughter Do Your Hair and Make Up" Day. Wow! I would have taken photos off my phone had it not been so extremely obvious.
Now we all know there are only three way where I really love children. 1. When they are drugged. 2. When they are asleep (usually a residual from the drugs.) 3. When they are behind the glass in zoos. Well I now know something that makes me love wide awake sugar high kids and here is my advice for their owners -
DRUG YOUR FREAKING YAPPY ASS DOGS AND LEAVE THEM IN THEIR CARRIERS THAT COST AS MUCH AS MY CAR PAYMENT!!!
No, I don't find it cute when your hairless rat with epilepsy chews on my shoestrings nor when it barks for two hours straight. Go back out through security, take it for a walk, hell - call an exterminator for all I care but make it GO AWAY!
So, to get away from the the hairless yappy rat I decide to take a walk. Smart move as I encounter "The Lovebirds." You know the duo. The ones who obviously just came from getting married on a Wednesday morning by the Justice of the Peace. Princess Skank-a-Lot in her Daisy Dukes, platform heels and tank top on a 60 degree day (Mom must be proud) and Prince Pimp-Her-Out in his wife beater and shorts about two inches off the ground who are walking with their hands in each others' back pockets while inching along at a mere two steps a minute. How about moving along instead of blocking the entire concourse and see if you can figure out how to shoot for the Mile High Club instead? Oh wait ... that would involve figuring out when to leave for the bathroom when the plane in exactly one mile high in the air, right? Little too much math for you two. Nevermind.
And just a few more ponderings:
Small children should never be given their own luggage. Period.
There are large numbers of people who use the restroom who do not wash their hands afterward - including people in foodservice preparation. Tasty, huh?
It never hurts to be polite to ANY service employee - even if they are kind of grouchy to you at first, etc. They put up with more awful travelers every single day than we could ever imagine. Just maybe if a few of us could say "please" and "thank you" instead of "I want" and "give me" and "get me," things would go a whole lot smoother. Airport workers and airline employees tend to be ranked as some of the most unfriendly ... maybe we the customers can see how we can change this!
Most of all ... airport traveling is NOT ALL ABOUT YOU! It is about the space around you. Treat your space - sort of like the inside of your car. Keep it self contained, keep the kiddos in it, keep your stuff in it, clean it up (this is where I am quite guilty of not cleaning) and if you want to invite someone in for a ride by all means do so. If not ... sit down, keep your music quiet, stay in your space and wait for your flight.
That's my cranky layover view and I'm sticking to it.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
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