When did the airport become Walmart?
There are a number of videos on Youtube that show people making poor clothing and life choices in Walmart.
And it is a flat out freakshow.
But when did the freakshow take their weird act to the airport?
Here is where we’re at so far.
It started slow.
In line at the TSA checkpoint, I saw a guy that looked like a basketball in a polo shirt. (Let that visual sink in for a second.)
Nothing seemed out of place until he bent over to untie his shoes. (TSA checkpoint, remember?)
And then I saw it.
A whale tail.
You heard me right.
M-ER F-ING Whale tail.
This is something I can never unsee.
Like a 1 second Vietnam War, this may affect me for the rest of my life.
I staggered along thru the checkpoint in a stupor, even the excessive pat down barely registered. (Someone fondling my testes usually gets my attention.)
While putting my shoes on at the bench after my #MeToo moment, while trying desperately not to see the whale tail again, the attractive business woman sitting next to me farted.
Not a lady-like toot followed by an embarrassed “Oh my! Excuse me!”, but a full barreled flatulent ground zero moment followed by locking eyes with me and glaring like I was the one at fault.
She made a beeline for the bathroom right after she got her shoes on. (Possibly shit herself. If it was me, I would want to check after a blast like that too.)
There is a horizontal escalator that moves you along faster to the far off gates.
It was here that I wondered if you could get crabs in the butt crack?
I only ask because the guy in the skinny jeans ahead of me is raking his fingernails up and down his as with the fervor of a man who’s ass might be on fire.
The scent of patchouli oil drifts back to my nostrils. (This does not help my already poor opinion of bohemian types. A smelly ass hippy with an itchy taint is still a smelly ass hippy. Plus, Ear gauges, need I say more?)
I get to my gate and figure all is well, just bide my time and I will soon be on the plane.
Life, it seems, has other plans.
Airport security shows up and yanks some guy to his feet at a nearby gate.
It seems a young mother has lodged a complaint. (As they frog-march him away, it occurs to me that if you are going to wear pajamas like regular pants, either sew up the bathroom slit in the front or wear underwear. I would be ok with airport security walking him down a few flights of steps so he could “Accidentally” fall down the steps and learn a deeper meaning of “Common courtesy”.)
And finally, I am on the plane.
But we are not done.
As I was boarding, Whale-tail is arguing with an attendant about the full size suitcase he claims is a carry on.
I made the mistake of booking an aisle seat.
This means that I spend all of boarding leaning to the right so that EVERY guy walking by doesn’t rub his ass on my shoulder.
Look, I know how whiny and pitiful all of this sounds and I would be the first one to shout PUSSY at anyone else with the same bitch-list.
But, this is my world, and you are just a squirrel, trying to get a blog-nut.
The fact that the stewardess on the loudspeaker giving the safety speech has a decent harelip doesn’t even phase me.
But the guy across the aisle picking his nose so deeply that it looks like he is up to the second knuckle is starting to freak me out.
A young mother with a cute little daughter sit down next to me.
With mom watching, the little girl rummages under the seat in front of her and digs out a piece of gum someone put there.
Immediately puts it in her mouth and begins chewing.
Mom says nothing.
Gonna be a long flight.