To Speak of the Woe that is in Travel
Well, not woe so much as just plain, simple, American weirdness. The only real tragedy of the trip occurred this morning, after I had already arrived home. I was forced to massacre a colony of bacteria that had been living in my coffee cup since I left, and I think the experience has scarred me for life. If you were wondering, coffee can become the consistency of half-dry latex paint.
Lori and I went down to Virginia for a wedding of two of my good friends from High School, Megan and Haywood. It was an event that I was looking forward to, as I hadn't seen either of them or our surrounding friends in about a year. So I decided that we should fly down, so that we could maximize the amount of time we'd get to spend with them, my Grandfather (who I haven't seen since May) and my sister (who just got back from Zimbabwe). We arrived at Manchester Airport with plenty of time, and settled in to the less than comfortable terminal seats to read for an hour before boarding.
Nothing of consequence happens for an hour.
And then I begin to notice that, although it is time to board the flight, we are short one aircraft. Minor detail. Soon our red-faced, barrel chested, female flight attendant, who shall from now on be called the Ogre, makes her announcement.
Ogre: Ladies and Gentleman, the flight is delayed due to mechanical problems. We will update you on the status as we learn more. All those with connecting flights please come to the desk.
Eruption! The place is a roiling inferno of frustrated activity within seconds. Actually, that's not true. Most people were fairly good about the whole thing. There were only a couple people who needed extra assurances. And of course, the story will follow them.
Enter the first eccentric: Angry uptight WASP Lecher. Picture, if you will, a man about 5'6", of negligible muscle development, and dressed in the latest Polo attire. He is far too important to be bothered. But he does move over to the service counter, away from the Ogre (obviously a well developed sense of survival). WASP heads to the only minority in attendance, a well dressed black man. He smiles as he moves towards the man, and then as soon as he is within proper speaking distance, begins screaming at him. I've only seen this technique used by rare small predators in the Andes. I thought for an instant the well dressed black man might just smash him, but he instead spoke kindly, and I'm sure sent him to the worst hotel imaginable. The man then alternated, for the duration of his tenure as worst passnenger ever, with yelling at the assistant and chatting up every female of every age that came within distance. He obviously missed his mother.
Enter the second eccentric: uptight Indian man who does not understand beauracracy, henceforth known as the I.P.A. (Indecently Persistent Asshole). The I.P.A. had some sort of difficulty with following the etiquette of lines. He would get to the back of the line, walk around on his heels for a while, mumbling to whoever was slotted by karmic malfeasance to be next to him about how he had checked the flight on the internet last night and everything was fine then, and then RUN to the front of the line, assaulting the Ogre with phrases like:
"How could you do this to me?"
which only served to confuse everyone.
The Third Eccentric: Strange fat Latina woman going to Iceland. We never really figured this one out. She spent half her time screaming at the Ogre, the other half speaking sweetly in spanish to her cell phone. I was never really sure if there was someone on the other line or not, as she kept telling everyone else that her phone was out of batteries and she couldn't get in touch with anyone. She was very insistent that she had to get to Florida today, because, "I'm going to Iceland in a few days." I am still confused if she meant the country, or some sort of Disney park.
The greatest drama of the night happened when IPA and Latina met. She was glaring down at her cell phone, he was running circles around the line (why, by the way, he wasn't picked up by security is beyond me). He must have noticed the floral print on her flabby bosoms, for he stopped, mesmerized. She must have felt kinship in the lunatic sheen on his bald forehead.
IPA:How can they do this to me?!!! I checked the flight on the internet last night!!!
Latina: Tengo ir a Iceland.
Love at first sight. They huddled together till separated by room assignments, where I think Latina actually ended up with WASP. Isn't that always the way. Bloody colonizers.
The best story actually is from Tel Aviv guy. He was a very nice man, who simply wanted to make it to his connecting flight to Tel Aviv. He had some kind of family reunion to get to, I think.
TAG: Hi, I just want to know if I can make my flight.
Ogre: No.
TAG: Oh, well is there another flight out on Continental?
Ogre: Not till tomorrow night.
TAG: Oh, um, well is there a flight out on El Al ? I know they fly out of Newark (the place we were all connecting).
Ogre: Not on the computer. They're not listed.
TAG: The Israeli national airline?
Ogre: I don't think I've ever heard of it.
TAG: You're kidding me.
Ogre: Not on the computer, doesn't exist.
TAG: IT'S the NATIONAL AIRLINE OF ISRAEL!
Ogre: Whatever. It's not on the computer for Saturday.
TAG: Wait, what?
Ogre: Tomorrow is Saturday, sir. I am speaking plain english.
TAG: (erupts in laughter) Oh my God. I can't believe I forgot the Sabbath.
Yes my friends, he was delayed by Yahweh.
Lori and I actually did pretty well. We got a place in Newark complimentary from the hotel at about 1 in the morning ( although we got it by me repeating the phrase "Mechanical failure = hotel" over and over again to the night crew until they were just happy to be rid of me) and got in to Norfolk at 10 the next day.
On the way back, I was delayed in Newark again. I think I'm going to have a talk with Yahweh. If he can find 10 decent people in the city, I'll spare it.
Glad to be back.
Lori and I went down to Virginia for a wedding of two of my good friends from High School, Megan and Haywood. It was an event that I was looking forward to, as I hadn't seen either of them or our surrounding friends in about a year. So I decided that we should fly down, so that we could maximize the amount of time we'd get to spend with them, my Grandfather (who I haven't seen since May) and my sister (who just got back from Zimbabwe). We arrived at Manchester Airport with plenty of time, and settled in to the less than comfortable terminal seats to read for an hour before boarding.
Nothing of consequence happens for an hour.
And then I begin to notice that, although it is time to board the flight, we are short one aircraft. Minor detail. Soon our red-faced, barrel chested, female flight attendant, who shall from now on be called the Ogre, makes her announcement.
Ogre: Ladies and Gentleman, the flight is delayed due to mechanical problems. We will update you on the status as we learn more. All those with connecting flights please come to the desk.
Eruption! The place is a roiling inferno of frustrated activity within seconds. Actually, that's not true. Most people were fairly good about the whole thing. There were only a couple people who needed extra assurances. And of course, the story will follow them.
Enter the first eccentric: Angry uptight WASP Lecher. Picture, if you will, a man about 5'6", of negligible muscle development, and dressed in the latest Polo attire. He is far too important to be bothered. But he does move over to the service counter, away from the Ogre (obviously a well developed sense of survival). WASP heads to the only minority in attendance, a well dressed black man. He smiles as he moves towards the man, and then as soon as he is within proper speaking distance, begins screaming at him. I've only seen this technique used by rare small predators in the Andes. I thought for an instant the well dressed black man might just smash him, but he instead spoke kindly, and I'm sure sent him to the worst hotel imaginable. The man then alternated, for the duration of his tenure as worst passnenger ever, with yelling at the assistant and chatting up every female of every age that came within distance. He obviously missed his mother.
Enter the second eccentric: uptight Indian man who does not understand beauracracy, henceforth known as the I.P.A. (Indecently Persistent Asshole). The I.P.A. had some sort of difficulty with following the etiquette of lines. He would get to the back of the line, walk around on his heels for a while, mumbling to whoever was slotted by karmic malfeasance to be next to him about how he had checked the flight on the internet last night and everything was fine then, and then RUN to the front of the line, assaulting the Ogre with phrases like:
"How could you do this to me?"
which only served to confuse everyone.
The Third Eccentric: Strange fat Latina woman going to Iceland. We never really figured this one out. She spent half her time screaming at the Ogre, the other half speaking sweetly in spanish to her cell phone. I was never really sure if there was someone on the other line or not, as she kept telling everyone else that her phone was out of batteries and she couldn't get in touch with anyone. She was very insistent that she had to get to Florida today, because, "I'm going to Iceland in a few days." I am still confused if she meant the country, or some sort of Disney park.
The greatest drama of the night happened when IPA and Latina met. She was glaring down at her cell phone, he was running circles around the line (why, by the way, he wasn't picked up by security is beyond me). He must have noticed the floral print on her flabby bosoms, for he stopped, mesmerized. She must have felt kinship in the lunatic sheen on his bald forehead.
IPA:How can they do this to me?!!! I checked the flight on the internet last night!!!
Latina: Tengo ir a Iceland.
Love at first sight. They huddled together till separated by room assignments, where I think Latina actually ended up with WASP. Isn't that always the way. Bloody colonizers.
The best story actually is from Tel Aviv guy. He was a very nice man, who simply wanted to make it to his connecting flight to Tel Aviv. He had some kind of family reunion to get to, I think.
TAG: Hi, I just want to know if I can make my flight.
Ogre: No.
TAG: Oh, well is there another flight out on Continental?
Ogre: Not till tomorrow night.
TAG: Oh, um, well is there a flight out on El Al ? I know they fly out of Newark (the place we were all connecting).
Ogre: Not on the computer. They're not listed.
TAG: The Israeli national airline?
Ogre: I don't think I've ever heard of it.
TAG: You're kidding me.
Ogre: Not on the computer, doesn't exist.
TAG: IT'S the NATIONAL AIRLINE OF ISRAEL!
Ogre: Whatever. It's not on the computer for Saturday.
TAG: Wait, what?
Ogre: Tomorrow is Saturday, sir. I am speaking plain english.
TAG: (erupts in laughter) Oh my God. I can't believe I forgot the Sabbath.
Yes my friends, he was delayed by Yahweh.
Lori and I actually did pretty well. We got a place in Newark complimentary from the hotel at about 1 in the morning ( although we got it by me repeating the phrase "Mechanical failure = hotel" over and over again to the night crew until they were just happy to be rid of me) and got in to Norfolk at 10 the next day.
On the way back, I was delayed in Newark again. I think I'm going to have a talk with Yahweh. If he can find 10 decent people in the city, I'll spare it.
Glad to be back.
posted by Brian Wilkins at 10:48 AM
2 Comments:
you were right. the TAG was the best story.
traveling definitely sucks sometimes.
glad you two made it back in one piece!
~rachel
Why thank you rachel. Lori actually didn't get back yet, just me, but don't worry...we'll be back to take up kitchen space on Sunday.
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