Travel Blog

I'm not a big fan of people bringing smelly food on planes, either.

Okay, well I’m currently away from my home base, this time for business reasons. Before I delve into my weekly update, I’ve made a few observations while traveling so I think I’ll share. First, people in the service industry in the D.C. area aren’t terribly polite. Now, I am both generalizing and understating here. These bammas are flat out RUDE. Me: “‘Scuse me, can you tell me where the soap is?” Them: *blank stare* Me: “Umm, do you work here?” Them: “Ugh, I’m on the phone, if you can’t find it by the sign, then you gonna haveta wait a minute. *eye roll combined with suck teeth* Jeez. The San Diego airport, in an effort to make us all feel like 90 year old grandmas, has lined its Terminal 2 with rocking chairs. ROCKING CHAIRS!!! At first, I was taken aback by these old-style wooden beauties lining the waiting areas. Then I noticed people comfortably sliding back and forth with looks of peace and tranquility plastered on their faces. Peace and tranquility in an airport? “There must be something to this,” I thought as I scootched on over to the nearest vacant chair. Rock…mmmmm…rock…ooohhh…rock…aaaaahhhh. Oh my freakin’ God, these things work! Shocking. Two minutes after being slightly perterbed by the airportness of the place, I am rocking my way to absolute nirvana. Who knew?!? One last observation. This one’s about us–excuse me, US. Maaaan, I get on the plane in Vegas (layover) and I’m sitting next to two entrepeNegros who are doing, apparently, quite well for themselves. In fact, I’m hoping to meet up with Wife entrepeNegro to discuss hear more about what they do. But why, why, WHY did they act like we were on Southwest Airlines (what I refer to as “the Greyhound of the Skies”). I have ridden Southwest, will probably ride again because it is so dang cheap, so I’m not here frontin’ like it’s beneath me or something. But that said, WTF? I mean, if you’ve ever flown SWA you know EXACTLY what I’m talking about. We get on the plane–mind you i saw these cats in the waiting area and they were sitting there at least as long as I was–we get on the plane, and they pull out their burger king and commence to grubbin’. I wish I could say that they were throwing pickles or being really obnoxious, you know for the fun of the story, but they weren’t. They were just funkin’ up the joint with their stinky food that they could have easily consumed before getting on the plane.

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