So Much Hate, So Many People ...
Is it possible to hate 950,074 people in the span of only two hours? Yes, yes it is. Join me as we take a trip to ... the airport.
It starts at the security checkpoint: I can't read, what does take you laptop out mean? (1 person). Keep my boarding pass out? (2 people). Have identification ready? (1 person). Remove outerwear? (no one this trip but you know they are out there). Once you get past the people who don't understand the complicated directives listed three times and conveyed in pictographs, you get the people who lack any common sense or understanding whatsoever. Will this belt buckle the size of a child's head set off the metal detector? (1 person). Whoops, I still have my cell phone on my belt (1 person). Should I start getting ready while waiting in line or wait until the very last minute to check my pockets? (3 people).
After the minefield of security you get to maneuver the concourse: Hey, right here at the end of the moving walkway looks like a great place for the six of us to stop and chat a bit. (6 people). Hey, sorry I'm dragging a giant piece of luggage (which I should have checked, more on that later) behind me and am unaware that I should account for that when I walk right in front of you. (3 people).
You finally get to the gate then encounter even more idiocy: If you are not in first class, an exit row, or have small children, and your ticket reads Row 7, please, immediately run to the boarding door and stand there like a retarded puppy anticipating a treat. (15 people). Oh, and a small child isn't a hyperactive 7 year old. (1 person, well 2 if you count the child). If you don't feel like standing there, please try to board before you should. (2 people).
Ahhh, finally on board: I'm never going to get into my rollerbag and have other checked luggage anyway, but I thought it looks cool to wheel one of these things around. (27 people). I'm too old/weak/gimpy/lazy to put my own carry-on in the overhead, can you help me? (3 people). Oh, when you announced three times that all cell phones had to be turned off, you meant me? (2 people). I'll just talk for two more minutes. (1 person). I love music so much, I want you to hear it too even though I'm wearing headphones. (1 person). Even though my tray table is attached to your seat, you wouldn't mind if I bang, pull, and nervously tap on it? (1 person). Now that we are getting ready to land and should remain in our seats, I should probably bolt to the bathroom right now. (1 person (granted she probably was one of the rollerbag people)).
Landing: My bag (which I should have checked) is 7 rows back. You don't mind if: 1) I ask you to firebucket brigade it to me (1 person); or 2) push my way back to get it and the push my way forward with bag in tow (1 person).
Then you find yourself in Detroit. (950,000 people).
It starts at the security checkpoint: I can't read, what does take you laptop out mean? (1 person). Keep my boarding pass out? (2 people). Have identification ready? (1 person). Remove outerwear? (no one this trip but you know they are out there). Once you get past the people who don't understand the complicated directives listed three times and conveyed in pictographs, you get the people who lack any common sense or understanding whatsoever. Will this belt buckle the size of a child's head set off the metal detector? (1 person). Whoops, I still have my cell phone on my belt (1 person). Should I start getting ready while waiting in line or wait until the very last minute to check my pockets? (3 people).
After the minefield of security you get to maneuver the concourse: Hey, right here at the end of the moving walkway looks like a great place for the six of us to stop and chat a bit. (6 people). Hey, sorry I'm dragging a giant piece of luggage (which I should have checked, more on that later) behind me and am unaware that I should account for that when I walk right in front of you. (3 people).
You finally get to the gate then encounter even more idiocy: If you are not in first class, an exit row, or have small children, and your ticket reads Row 7, please, immediately run to the boarding door and stand there like a retarded puppy anticipating a treat. (15 people). Oh, and a small child isn't a hyperactive 7 year old. (1 person, well 2 if you count the child). If you don't feel like standing there, please try to board before you should. (2 people).
Ahhh, finally on board: I'm never going to get into my rollerbag and have other checked luggage anyway, but I thought it looks cool to wheel one of these things around. (27 people). I'm too old/weak/gimpy/lazy to put my own carry-on in the overhead, can you help me? (3 people). Oh, when you announced three times that all cell phones had to be turned off, you meant me? (2 people). I'll just talk for two more minutes. (1 person). I love music so much, I want you to hear it too even though I'm wearing headphones. (1 person). Even though my tray table is attached to your seat, you wouldn't mind if I bang, pull, and nervously tap on it? (1 person). Now that we are getting ready to land and should remain in our seats, I should probably bolt to the bathroom right now. (1 person (granted she probably was one of the rollerbag people)).
Landing: My bag (which I should have checked) is 7 rows back. You don't mind if: 1) I ask you to firebucket brigade it to me (1 person); or 2) push my way back to get it and the push my way forward with bag in tow (1 person).
Then you find yourself in Detroit. (950,000 people).
posted by Happy Chicken at 3:37 PM
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