I Hate To Fly - And It Shows

For those that don’t know me, I’m not a big fan of flying. And by “not a big fan of,” I really mean “strongly dislike.” It’s not just simply the flight itself. I’ve actually come to loathe the entire experience. From the security line strip show …. to the cattle call boarding process …. to the annoying/chatty/snoring seatmate …. to the inevitable armrest wrestling match … it’s just a not so great time. However, the gods have smiled down upon me today and blessed me with a few new bonus experiences during this trip (forgive the verb tense, but I typed these notes as they were happening at the airport/on the plane):

* Remind me when it was that men become incapable of carrying their fucking luggage? Seriously, what grown man is incapable of carrying a 25 pound bag and instead has to rely upon one of those rolling luggage devices? I nearly collided with some asshole that refused to lift his bags as he rounded a 90 degree corner -- even as he saw me oncoming -- forcing me to dive out of his way in order to avoid him. I honestly don’t know how I restrained myself from knocking the teeth out of his mouth.

* The woman sitting across the isle from me just started eating some carry-on Indian food. Lucky me. It smells like curried skunk. God, I pity whoever has to use the restroom after her tomorrow. I hope her ass burns later on like my nostrils are right now.

* The 50+ year old flight attendant keeps brushing up against me with her ass during this flight. Now, it’s probably just a serious of accidents or one big mere coincidence -- or it could just have to do with the fact that she has an enormous caboose. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she were a hot 50 year old, like Kim Bassinger. But I’ve seen Kim Bassinger … I’ve masturbated to Kim Bassinger … and you, ma’am, are no Kim Bassinger.

* The woman sitting next to me keeps dividing her attention between my laptop and the book that the window seat guy is reading. Jesus Christ, did it never occur to you that you would be stuck on an airplane for 2 1/2 hours with nothing to do? Would it kill you to carry on your own reading materials? Or did the Oakland airport sell out of Readers Digest? At last, she’s finally decided to peruse the United in-flight magazine “Hemisphere.” I guess the “Things To Do In Scottsdale” article was too tempting to resist.

* I think the curried beef woman just farted. Fuck, it smells like a combination of ass, rancid beef and paprika. God, I am going to puke right now.

* When flying in and out of Denver, one invariably experiences some turbulence when flying over the mountains. It’s just inevitable, so I figured I was accustomed to the bit of choppiness I thought I would encounter. I was dead wrong. There was an awful 10 minute stretch where the plane was bouncing around and I found myself shaking uncontrollably in my seat like Katharine Hepburn in a wind tunnel. Fun times.

I finally arrived at DIA and, with bags finally in hand, was off to my friend’s wedding weekend in Breckenridge. Thank god, I could use a drink (or six).