Forgive the indulgence. I make a point of it not to turn Zenestex.com into my own personal venting forum—like some acne infested teenager's MySpace blog. But, this morning I simply couldn't resist. Here are my thoughts from when we were in a holding pattern above Dulles Airport in Washington, DC waiting for the blizzard to blow over. Again, my apologies for the ranting. If it bothers you, think of it instead as homage to the Seinfeld episode where Elaine was trapped in a subway car.
I'm stuck on an airplane circling Dulles Airport until they're done removing the snow from the runway and am bored out of my mind. My laptop battery is running on fumes so this won't be long. Batteries don't really run on fuel—or anything else that would have fumes really. So I wonder what the proper expression is for a battery “running on fumes?” I had the option of chilling in bed and relaxing this morning. I really did. However, me being such a naïve lackey, I wanted to show my new employer what a dedicated soldier they had just hired. I was supposed to leave last night for a weeklong orientation into the company. As luck would have it, a little winter storm apparently shut down the entire east coast last night and my flight was cancelled.
I didn't have to, but I waited on hold for a total of three hours last night with the travel department. I could have let my company's HR take care of this for me on Monday morning. But Noooo! I wanted to make an impact. I took one for the team and volunteered to take the 5:40 AM flight when all the later flights were cancelled. You see, I figured this flight was a mistake on the airline's part. They just overlooked this flight and would cancel it once they saw it was the only one still going into Washington, DC. I thought, “Hey! They'll scratch this flight and my new company will see what a dedicated employee I am for wanting to go so early and brave the blizzard! I'm a trooper!”
Aw shit! And I mean that literally—some dude just took a nice, big, steaming, greasy, smelly shit in the rear restroom of the plane. To put the raw power of this man's defecation into perspective, I'm sitting in the middle of the plane and can hardly breathe. I think my eyes are starting to water. My sincere condolences to the families of the poor souls sitting in the back of the plane; your loved ones just died a slow horrible death.
Back to the story: I figured the flight would certainly be cancelled and I would be a hero for trying. All it would cost me was waking up at 2:45 in the morning to check the flight status online. This was a sure bet! An easy first day gold star! One small victory for the good guys! This, folks, is why I don't gamble when I go to Vegas and instead choose to drink myself stupid and watch Cirque du Soleil shows. I am now stuck on a plane, immersed in a repulsive cloud of fart, and the fucker sitting in front of me is leaning all the way back. Oh fucking great! They just announced another 20 minutes on top of the already 40 minutes of circling because of the fucking snow. MOTHER FUCKER!!! I hate snow! HATE IT!!! If you live up North and love it because you like to see the “change of seasons,” I say screw you and your little ice scraper. You are being lied to! This sucks! And I hope your balls freeze to the high horse you ride around on. Your stupid “change of seasons” only lasts one fucking week and then everything is dead for the next four freaking months! Yeah, it's so awesome! Now my battery is about out, so I'm out, too.
Epilogue: I just wanted to add that I finally stuck up for myself in the situation I described. I've always just accepted the fact that I will be in the 2% of the airline passengers that has a complete asshole sitting in front of them that fully leans their chair back. It happens to me almost every flight—it can't possibly be a coincidence. I reached my boiling point this morning however. The jackass leaned back. I huffed and I puffed. I pissed and I moaned. I shot daggers with my eyes at the back of his head, counted all the dandruff flakes in his hair, and laughed to myself about how fat he was. None of this got his portly ass out of my lap. I gathered my nerve and broke the deadly lifelong cycle of me quietly accepting my meek bitchedness about people leaning back on me during flights. I tapped Jabba on the shoulder and politely asked him to sit up. Oh, he was perturbed; he glared at me and then sighed his fat man sigh about the whole situation, but in the end he sat up. And fell right back to sleep a minute later. It's the small victories in life you have to cherish.