As many of you know I hate the winter holidays. Everyone gets really stupid, travels in annoying packs, the weather is cold, and there's always drama. Therefore, when I'm queen of the world, there will be no more winter, every holiday will be celebrated with glitter and fireworks and stupid people will be "phased out." Until then, however, I will continue to roll my eyes dramatically at all of the utter stupidity that defines these lovely holidays. Exhibit A:
I was at the airport the other night waiting for my flight to California. I must admit that when going to California there are always some persons of questionable intelligence.....but I attribute that to the ridiculous amount of people that live in California. There's no way to avoid dumbness when your pool is so huge to start with. Anyway, the point is that while still at the airport I was distracted by two events.
Event 1: a group of about 5 guys had clearly indulged in some liquid courage before approaching the boarding area (read: arena of stupidity). They were loud, thought they were funny and smelled like sweat. Winners all the way around, you see.
Event 2: suspicious woman in pink track suit, fake nails, bleach blonde hair teased to the sky carrying unfashionable frock of a jacket arrives wondering where her plane is. She, like everyone else, was on her way to visit family for the holiday but was too dim-witted to realize that when standing in a group of people all holding tickets to the same city, chances are the plane at that gate will be going to your destination. In trying to be forgiving, I realized that maybe she's not a big traveler, but the GIANT SIGN WITH THE NAME OF THE DESTINATION ON IT should have been a clue! For her it was not. Stupid. Again, my friend, I ask you why natural selection hasn't yet done it's job.
Somehow I got lucky enough to sit by one of the aforementioned drunky drunks on the plane....well not next to, but in the same aisle. And then the pink lady (Cindy) arrived. over the next few hours I was lucky enough (and the fact that I didn't vomit and then throw it at them is quite remarkable) to experience her weaving her web of cougarness, cast it, and catch that poor little drunk boy without even knowing what hit him. By the end of the flight he was planning on changing his ticket, abandoning his baggage which had been checked through to Chicago and uprooting his sad little life for this crazy 50 year old woman. Oh and by the way, drunky drunk was 26....so that's nice.
The best part of the whole thing was probably when he chugged a few Jack Daniels minis, had to pee, was afraid to get up, almost peed himself, made out with Cindy, and then had to leap across her and me as soon as the wheels touched the ground to run off to the lavatory. High class courtship folks. Gentlemen, take notes.
No comments:
Post a Comment