The Louis Pasteur of Junkiedom (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} calamityjon) wrote,@ 2004-11-03 09:32:00 |
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Hi everyone, I'm writing to you from Europe! I moved to Europe because Bush won! I am in Europe now, with all my socks and shoes and my PS2 and all my gearest action figures! I am living in Europe now, and it's totally awesome because everyone here lives in a treehouse made of peace and difficult-to-understand novels that are still rewarding to read and also no blood for oil! I should have done this years ago! Europe!
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So anywez, the trip to Philly.
This is a Jedi. I drew him.
I wish I could go into this sparing you the details about the flight, but I can't, because the flight was ape balls and a consistent conversation starter during the stay. I'll try to keep it highlighted, for instance: The clerk at Tucson split Kate and I up, so that we were sitting across the aisle from one another, each in the middle seat. Even though we checked in at the same time. Even though we bought our tickets at the same time.
And what makes it a riot is he did that to a buncha people. I go to the counter to see if I can switch up our seats, to find that the guy ahead of me got separated from his wife the same way. And on the plane, we weren't the only guys reshuffling our seating assignments. So the Tucson clerk was a fucking jerk, I think is what this comes down to.
Second thing was that I wanted to punch the guy sitting in front of me from Houston to Philly, which is not really Continental's fault. I don't even really know why, per se, I think he just had some sort of nerd-stink about him. Also, his girlfriend was editing some story he'd written, and which Kate and I were surreptitiously reading over their shoulders, and it REALLY STUNK. So THAT'S probably why I wanted to murder him. I must've been idly thinking about punching him square on the top of his head for a good forty-five minutes before I even realized it. This is how my brain works.
But seriously, here's the kicker before the kicker, and it goes: They lost my luggage. Furthermore, they discovered that the guys in Tucson and Houston neglected to register my luggage at their airports so we couldn't trace it. Then, later, they found it. And decided to charge me for returning it. And claimed it had been there all along, and I must have missed it, which would have been a neat trick because there were only two pieces of luggage on the belt. And the lady at the Philly office was a huge bitch, frankly, is what it comes down to. The ladies at the Lost Luggage Line hated her too. One of them said she wanted to punch the Philly office lady, which means it was a theme.
The kicker kicker, though? My luggage was searched. Both going to and coming back from Philly, my bag had been opened and sifted through. Hell, my address label - the thing you have on the handle of your bag? - was in the bottom of my suitcase. THAT'S A NEAT TRICK! WATCH OUT ITEMS MAY SHIFT THROUGH SOLID MATTER DURING FLIGHT.
Also, everything was soggy, at least when we arrived in Philly. I hate to imagine what happened, but I tell you this: It was almost a relief to get to Tucson and find that my stuff was only manhandled, rather than mucilated upon.
========================================
So anywez, the trip to Philly.
This is a Jedi. I drew him.
I wish I could go into this sparing you the details about the flight, but I can't, because the flight was ape balls and a consistent conversation starter during the stay. I'll try to keep it highlighted, for instance: The clerk at Tucson split Kate and I up, so that we were sitting across the aisle from one another, each in the middle seat. Even though we checked in at the same time. Even though we bought our tickets at the same time.
And what makes it a riot is he did that to a buncha people. I go to the counter to see if I can switch up our seats, to find that the guy ahead of me got separated from his wife the same way. And on the plane, we weren't the only guys reshuffling our seating assignments. So the Tucson clerk was a fucking jerk, I think is what this comes down to.
Second thing was that I wanted to punch the guy sitting in front of me from Houston to Philly, which is not really Continental's fault. I don't even really know why, per se, I think he just had some sort of nerd-stink about him. Also, his girlfriend was editing some story he'd written, and which Kate and I were surreptitiously reading over their shoulders, and it REALLY STUNK. So THAT'S probably why I wanted to murder him. I must've been idly thinking about punching him square on the top of his head for a good forty-five minutes before I even realized it. This is how my brain works.
But seriously, here's the kicker before the kicker, and it goes: They lost my luggage. Furthermore, they discovered that the guys in Tucson and Houston neglected to register my luggage at their airports so we couldn't trace it. Then, later, they found it. And decided to charge me for returning it. And claimed it had been there all along, and I must have missed it, which would have been a neat trick because there were only two pieces of luggage on the belt. And the lady at the Philly office was a huge bitch, frankly, is what it comes down to. The ladies at the Lost Luggage Line hated her too. One of them said she wanted to punch the Philly office lady, which means it was a theme.
The kicker kicker, though? My luggage was searched. Both going to and coming back from Philly, my bag had been opened and sifted through. Hell, my address label - the thing you have on the handle of your bag? - was in the bottom of my suitcase. THAT'S A NEAT TRICK! WATCH OUT ITEMS MAY SHIFT THROUGH SOLID MATTER DURING FLIGHT.
Also, everything was soggy, at least when we arrived in Philly. I hate to imagine what happened, but I tell you this: It was almost a relief to get to Tucson and find that my stuff was only manhandled, rather than mucilated upon.
