Why Planes Suck
Today was further proof of how and why airplanes are the devil. I was flying from Savannah to Chicago and then to Wichita. I was due to leave at 11:24 (Eastern time) and arrive at 4:20ish (Central time). Instead I left at 12:35 Eastern and got home at 8:00 Central. My flight from Savannah to Chicago wasn't horrible, but it wasn't pleasant either. I was worrying the whole trip that I wouldn't make my connection, and I sat next to a friendly old grandpa with very bad breath who was trying very hard to make conversation with me. He was nice enough, but I couldn't bear to look at him for more than a few seconds while he was speaking, or I might have passed out. I silently thanked the powers that be that all my grandparents brush thier teeth, even though that was incredibly shallow on my part.
I arrive in Chicago and get snowed on while exiting the plane. My flight to Wichita was delayed an hour, but that's okay since I got there an hour late anyway. Except, they kept moving the time around, once to four pm, then to six, then back to five, and then to six again. In between time changes, they would change gates, and I had a lovely walking tour of the Chicago O'Hare airport getting from concourse F to concourse C. Did you know they have a brachiasaur skeleton in between concourses B and C? They do, it is very distracting. So I arrive at my final gate and hunker down, watching them change the time slowly from 5 to 6 as they 'wait for a crew' for the plane. The flight from Chicago wasn't as memorable as the flight to it, except for the one asshole passenger who told me to turn off my gameboy as we were starting to land. I know I'm supposed to turn it off you self-important bastard, but seeing as how all of us have been waiting for this damn plane for four hours, and that you are not my father, and that I have had a really bad day and you are just the cherry on my sundae of shit, you can just fuck yourself. Oh how I wanted to say that, instead the bastard got a sour look.
Yes. Most of that was petty and pointless, but I needed to get it out of my system before I a'splode. I realize I need an angry icon for moments like this.
I arrive in Chicago and get snowed on while exiting the plane. My flight to Wichita was delayed an hour, but that's okay since I got there an hour late anyway. Except, they kept moving the time around, once to four pm, then to six, then back to five, and then to six again. In between time changes, they would change gates, and I had a lovely walking tour of the Chicago O'Hare airport getting from concourse F to concourse C. Did you know they have a brachiasaur skeleton in between concourses B and C? They do, it is very distracting. So I arrive at my final gate and hunker down, watching them change the time slowly from 5 to 6 as they 'wait for a crew' for the plane. The flight from Chicago wasn't as memorable as the flight to it, except for the one asshole passenger who told me to turn off my gameboy as we were starting to land. I know I'm supposed to turn it off you self-important bastard, but seeing as how all of us have been waiting for this damn plane for four hours, and that you are not my father, and that I have had a really bad day and you are just the cherry on my sundae of shit, you can just fuck yourself. Oh how I wanted to say that, instead the bastard got a sour look.
Yes. Most of that was petty and pointless, but I needed to get it out of my system before I a'splode. I realize I need an angry icon for moments like this.