Fight or Flight

My behavior really regresses with air travel. I had a less-than-enjoyable flight on Northwest [yeah, I didn't know they were still in business either] from Ft. Wayne Indiana to San Diego last night. First, we spent 25 minutes on the unseasonably warm tarmac in Ft. Wayne before the pilot finally told us that the air conditioning on the Cessna only works in the air? Oh puh-leaze. Air conditioning that runs on cumulus clouds [and unicorn horns?].

After our delayed flight finally arrived in Detroit...I knew my 45 minute connection was in jeopardy when the flight attendant flung open the doors of our plane saying "Watch out Tony...we have runners". Which seemed absolutely lost on Tippy the Turtle in front of me who seemed intent to meander his way through his connection.

After pushing Mr. Turtle [and about 23 others] out of the way, I finally reached gate Z86 and breathlessly asked the two waitresses at the gate if the flight had left. To which they responded..."Hey - we're in the middle of something important here."

Oh. No. You. Did-ent. And while I did not say...a) "I am going to take this $&#^@ ball and cram it down your $^#@) throat"; b) "You Lie!" or c) one single thing about Beyonce's video, I may have said..."Obviously not customer service" and/or "perhaps you could put away your crossword puzzle and help me get home." [ummmm.....BTW...I'm still waiting on my bags from that flight.]

And then...as I made my way to the back of this whacked out flight....I. Couldn't. Help. But. Notice.....the elderly Costanza-looking fliers in their matching fluorescent yellow t-shirt/ballcap ensembles obtained from the tea party-sponsored taxpayer march in D.C. this weekend. Oh PLEASE let me sit next to one of them....I'd have blogs for a year.

No dice. But not to worry....me and my inner Serena Williams caught up with one of them in the bathroom line.