Busted Flat In Baton Rouge, Waitin’ On A PlanePosted: November 10, 2010
Yeah, I know that isn’t how the song goes. I wasn’t in Baton Rouge either.
When I fly I get to the airport early. It just makes me crazy to be running late on a typical day. On travel days it becomes almost an obscession to be early. I kind of like being at the airport (Atlanta, Newark, not you. I hate being at your airports), there is so much to see.
Here’s A Good Idea…Put Your Crappy Attitude In Your Checked Luggage Next Time.
I like TSA. They do important work. I don’t think they need people mouthing off to them.
I don’t mind if they need to look in my bag. I don’t mind if they ask me questions. I don’t mind taking my shoes off, getting searched, or going through that full body scanner with my hands up on my head so I look like an x-ray of Bullwinkle.
When I was picking up my stuff and putting my shoes on, they were speaking to a guy at a table behind me. They were using a very professional tone. The guy was not.
The guy got to go to the back room. Good job TSA.
You Know, You Can Get A Shot For That
I’m walking to my gate. It is early morning and they are still restocking the stores with merchandise and the restaurants with delicious airport food.
A cart in front of one restaurant is loaded with boxes prominently labeled Dough Balls.
I knew a guy in college who got dough balls. He told me about the treatment, it almost seemed worse than the disease. I think you can get a shot for it now.
I tried to get a photo of the Dough Balls boxes, but they rolled it away before I could get my camera.
I Don’t Mean To Step On Toes. On Second Thought…
The guy sitting next to me at the gate is wearing those shoes with toes.
I hate those shoes. His are red. Why doesn’t he just paint his feet red and staple some rubber to his soles? I have never shopped for those shoes, but I bet they’re expensive. Sometimes, the more people spend for something, the dumber it looks.
I have to make a conscious effort not to step on his toes. Typically I would not have the urge to step on them. Perhaps since he spent so much money to make them so prominent I just want to step on them.
And then say I’m sorry.
And then say “that’s what you get for wearing those shoes!”
I Was In Miami
On my return trip I made a stop at Miami airport.
I spotted a couple wearing matching t-shirts. Matching shirts are never a good idea. It is worse when the t-shirts have “I was in Miami bitch” written on them in rhinestones.
A message to my Miami t-shirted friends:
There should be a comma on your shirt after Miami, knuckleheads.