10 Easy steps to plane travel success.
1: The weather. Plane is late due to stupid Florida. Normally, this is no big deal. I understand the miracle of flight and that tornadoes eat planes.
2: Connect-o-horror. Problem arises when it looks like the connecting flight is gonna leave without me due to the delay. I get called up and the nice lady swaps the connector to one that leaves an hour later at the next airport. Super. Sounds great. Better than waiting 6 hours for the next direct flight.
3: Enter the irony. Plane makes good time, excellentin fact. I check the big board when we land for the connecting gate number. Huzzah! It's 4 hours late (estimated) thus making the original "forget waiting 6 hours" plan look like it would have been a better idea.
4: Circumstance goes for the dick punch. A bit deflated, I scan the board some more. Looks like my original connector was delayed as well- and is currently boarding. A quick run down the airport and I spy the 2 folks I was to meet up with and fly out with. But, I don't have a ticket for this plane. I used to, an hour ago, but now I don't. Yay! So I solemnly turn my back on them.
5: Get in line. I head to the flight desk thing as the plane starts to board. As luck would have it, there is a lovely line full of angry people who want to go to Florida. (no joke) My kind of people! Ugh. I just need to get on the plane that is boarding right now to Chicago.
6. Dickery part one. They start announcing stand-by names for the flight I used to be on. I'm 10 deep in the help line, easy. I begin politely asking these Floridians if I could jump ahead to talk to the lady as you see time is important and that plane over there that is boarding is my target flight and yours isn't slated for another hour or so according to the big board. To which I receive several "nah, I was here first" replies and go fuck yourself stares.
7: Alls fair in dickery and dickery. Another name gets the stand-by call. No one replies. The lady calls out for any other stand-by folks. I leap ahead of the stupid Floridians and several stand-by folks shouting "wait, me" or something thick. Timidity and pleasantry will not win the day, I realize.
8: A plea on deaf ears. I go through the story and show my previous itinerary with the flight number. She looks sad and asks why I didn't come up earlier. I reply that the line was full of assholes who wouldn't let medi such a thing She says sorry, but there are no more seats. The only way one is to get one of those 2 people over there in the tunnel to give up their seat. Ugh. Well, at least it was a chance.
9. Southern fuckatality. I give the story and show my proofs to the lucky 2 and that their seat is in fact logically my seat as neither of them were on this plane originally. Fate has messed with my day and is there any chance you could see ti helping me out? The red headed Southern lady bitch wouldn't sell you a smile. She wasn't having any of it. So I turned to the other dude.
10. A human after all. Ignoring the redheaded lady's "ignoring you" gaze. I ask the business dude. He's cool with it and says no problem, go for it. So at the end of a tunnel of dickish humanity, a compassionate soul. Hooray for humans.
Yum. Pretzels and comics. On a plane.
- Acon 2011 fun blog edition.
After two determined days of digging (in sessions a week apart to help heal all injuries) the garden plot is looking real nice. It's easily double what I used to have. Thanks to the old lady and our Cuban mercenary, the plot took half the time it woulda all by my lonesome. There's still lots of roots and crap to sort out, but the majority of the heavy lifting is behind me. Due to the lack of bloodthirsty bastard mosquitoes, this garden should be less scary to tend too. Now to figure out what to plant and stuff.
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