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2006-05-21 - 8:59 a.m.
I hate travel. But I love to go to other places. It's the part in between that I don't like. The waiting. The being stuck in a small place for hours and hours.
'Course air travel is the suck, these days. Not that it was ever exceptionally pleasant for us plebeians. First class is okay, but you still have to make it from the limo to the plane.
I did everything I could to make the passing through security part as easy as possible. Well, I could have checked my luggage. Yeah, and find stuff missing at the other end.
They had to search my bag, of course. They've encountered so few digital cameras and iPods, that they weren't sure what they were during the x-ray of my bag. So they had to rifle through my bag and pull those out and run it through again. They even used the explosive sniffer.
Meanwhile, I could have had any number of illicit items on my person, and in my bag. That's right, concentrate on the unlikely. And, after all that, they didn't even bother to do the basic check to see if either of the two devices were actually functional.
I feel oh so much safer.
So there's that part. Then there's the other passengers.
Other people are the basic impediment. Why? BECAUSE THEY'RE STUPID! Just like on our busy streets and expressways, people are inattentive, ignorant, and disregard the rules. Then all the procedures break down.
First rule of travel: point your eyes in the direction your body is moving. This rule is fundamental, and it applies in places besides the busy airport. Places like walking down the street, or driving on the expressway.
Second rule of travel: follow the instructions given to you by airport and airline personnel. Read the goddamn signs. Comprehend the goddamn signs.
Third rule: know where you're going. Y'know, read your frickin' ticket. Know what terminal and gate you're supposed to go to. Jesus! Know what airline you're supposed to be on.
Fourth rule: Couldja not wear tank tops on fucking airplanes. I do not want to see your fucking hairy armpit when you reach up into the overhead compartment. For Christ's sake, have the common courtesy to at least wear a t-shirt, Merle. (It's always third-rate Sawyers too. Long, straight hair in a pony tail, a tan, a beer belly, and a floozy girlfriend. Totally trailer park)
Fifth rule: When walking in a high-traffic area, like the corridors of an airport, please refrain from stopping dead in your tracks to:
- ponder the universe
- read golf course brochures
- goggle in puzzlement at your boarding pass
- dig through your carry-on luggage
- answer your cell phone
- wonder where the hell you are, see the third rule
This rule applies much like the first rule. For example, when entering a busy store, don't stop just inside the store and stare around you in bewilderment. Have the courtesy to step out of the flow of traffic so the people behind you, who have something of a clue, can make their way through... YOU FUCKING MORON! BECAUSE THE NEXT CLOWN THAT PULLS THIS CRAP IN FRONT OF ME IS GOING TO GET BODY CHECKED SO HARD THEIR SPINE WILL SNAP!
Sixth rule: Seriously, is that cell phone call really that important?
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So, how do you like them apples?