(no subject)
jetlag! culture shock! oh dear god, the mayhem!
george orwell designed the fucking terminal 5 at heathrow, i swear it. its some scary shit operated by robots:
'good morning, i just have a question- in berlin they told me...'
'do you have your boarding card madam?'
'yes, but i just wanted to ask...'
'do you have your boarding card madam?'
'uh... i'm flying to los angeles, where is...'
'do you have your boarding card madam?'
finally i give up the boarding card, i was half afraid she would insert it into her mouth and shred it through the back of her head.
'straight ahead madam.'
'but they said i would have to take a bus?'
'downstairs madam.'
and then she was gone, like the wind.
so then the gas-wasting scenic bus tour of the bowels of heathrow-gatwick, then the caged in a refugee mall camp airport lounge deal where people, instead of setting up tents and gas stoves, had opened laptops and carry-on bags splayed, and my connection to LA had a 'please wait' blinking on it. i joined the huddled masses, as soon as i turned on my computer it changed to an urgent 'GO TO GATE'. quite a long trek, to a small country inhabited mostly by loud americans talking on cell phones and the bbc on big screen blasting in the background. turn that shit down, isn't psychological torture illegal as well? the idiocy continued at check-in, 'do you have anything sharp or any lighters or matches?' in my carry on? no, do i just look stupid today or what? 'maybe in my checked luggage...' yes, why did i say that? today i am stupid, and tired. 'you have to be sure ma'am, if there is any doubt, we'll have to pull your luggage because there is a danger of flammability.' yes, there is a lighter in my backpack, but no, i really doubt that in the very middle of my bag, in he belly of the plane, suddenly and inexplicably, my lighter would have the wherewithal to set itself aflame. 'no, i took it out.'
'ok ma'am, have a nice flight.'
guh.
boarding began shortly thereafter-
'all first class, ruby, emerald and sapphire travelers may begin boarding,'
are they speaking in code? is this like charlie-alpha-delta-bravo? i was looking for precious stones to make themselves obvious on my bland boarding papers.
'groups a, b and c may now begin boarding.' ah, ok, i'm group b.
some animals are more equal than others.
now i'm in LA! land of concrete, smog, palm trees, plastic surgery and everything else that the whole rest of the world has seen on tv and preconceived. welcome home?
george orwell designed the fucking terminal 5 at heathrow, i swear it. its some scary shit operated by robots:
'good morning, i just have a question- in berlin they told me...'
'do you have your boarding card madam?'
'yes, but i just wanted to ask...'
'do you have your boarding card madam?'
'uh... i'm flying to los angeles, where is...'
'do you have your boarding card madam?'
finally i give up the boarding card, i was half afraid she would insert it into her mouth and shred it through the back of her head.
'straight ahead madam.'
'but they said i would have to take a bus?'
'downstairs madam.'
and then she was gone, like the wind.
so then the gas-wasting scenic bus tour of the bowels of heathrow-gatwick, then the caged in a refugee mall camp airport lounge deal where people, instead of setting up tents and gas stoves, had opened laptops and carry-on bags splayed, and my connection to LA had a 'please wait' blinking on it. i joined the huddled masses, as soon as i turned on my computer it changed to an urgent 'GO TO GATE'. quite a long trek, to a small country inhabited mostly by loud americans talking on cell phones and the bbc on big screen blasting in the background. turn that shit down, isn't psychological torture illegal as well? the idiocy continued at check-in, 'do you have anything sharp or any lighters or matches?' in my carry on? no, do i just look stupid today or what? 'maybe in my checked luggage...' yes, why did i say that? today i am stupid, and tired. 'you have to be sure ma'am, if there is any doubt, we'll have to pull your luggage because there is a danger of flammability.' yes, there is a lighter in my backpack, but no, i really doubt that in the very middle of my bag, in he belly of the plane, suddenly and inexplicably, my lighter would have the wherewithal to set itself aflame. 'no, i took it out.'
'ok ma'am, have a nice flight.'
guh.
boarding began shortly thereafter-
'all first class, ruby, emerald and sapphire travelers may begin boarding,'
are they speaking in code? is this like charlie-alpha-delta-bravo? i was looking for precious stones to make themselves obvious on my bland boarding papers.
'groups a, b and c may now begin boarding.' ah, ok, i'm group b.
some animals are more equal than others.
now i'm in LA! land of concrete, smog, palm trees, plastic surgery and everything else that the whole rest of the world has seen on tv and preconceived. welcome home?