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on aeroplanes
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I’m afraid that I cannot take care of any sort of business matter without a confrontation, no matter how small. this is because i outwardly express my feelings of dissatisfaction immediately as i feel them. sometimes even before.
today at the airport the “gentleman” attending the security area did not ask me if i had my mac in the computer bag that i was visably carrying. i put my carry on, laptop, and vineyard vines bag through the x ray and stepped out on the other side. as the person scanning the bags came across my computer she said it had to come out of the bag and go through again. the “gentleman” reached for my computer bag, rifled through it, manhandled my little white precious, and then slopped it back down in a different bin to do it again. i looked him dead in the eye and said “Careful.”
“Careful what?” he obviously wanted to show that he had no regard for my belongings, and he was not going to humour my condescending remark.
“Sir please do not scratch or mark my computer. I would never handle it that way. that is why it is kept in a case.”
he ignored me after that, and good on ‘im... the last thing i need is to get into a shouting match with airport security personnel AT the security gate.
i have a theory that on any given airline coach class, you have an almost perfect sample population of the entire american middle class. lower, middle, and upper middle. for whatever reason, it’s all there. here is an entire planeful of people who i would never typically decide to spend a second of my day with all crammed within close proximity for a few hours. lovely. to my right and back is mister chatterbox. he uses his cell phone more than i do, speaks louder than i do, and complains more than i do. those three statements right there should let you know exactly what kind of intolorable imbicile he truly is. he’s wearing some sort of brick red sporty polo... reminds me of the movie 40 year old virgin. he could work in that electronics store right now.
behind me is a rather unsavory fellow in a harley davidson shirt. the exact sort with long frizzy grey beard and hair pulled back in a pony tail. probably longer than mine for all i know. it’s gross. his wife has a detectable southern drawl. they are very excited to be on this plane and don’t i know it. they are having the stewardess take photographs of them. upon takeoff he thought it was a good idea to make engine noises, and everytime we turned he SWORE he could feel the Gs...
from what i gather, they are going through the “sky mall”... “hon remember that table we picked up for 30 bucks at the yardsale? three-hundred right here!” basically i am getting a full narrated journey through sky mall.
and for free. what a deal.
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Posted: 7:19 PM, Aug. 22, 2008 |
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