Very recently, I found myself once again the victim of Northwest Airlines utter ineptitude. According to all weather reports, the skies were clear from where I was flying from, to where I was flying to, and, in fact, better, brighter, more well-guided skies had rarely been witnessed in the month of January by any meteorologist, ever. This, of course, meant Northwest had to continuously delay my flight home because, while every other airline that I’ve flown has managed to have its fucking ducks in a row, Northwest never fails to postpone my departure, if not randomly cancel it altogether. With endless hours suddenly on my hands, I made my way to the airport TGI-Friday’s, grabbbed a bar stool, and ordered a Sam Adams Winter Lager. I am not much of a beer drinker generally but I felt the need for a mellowing pint to keep me from losing my temper with the blameless ticketing agent, to whom not moments earlier, when my flight was delayed for the eighteenth or twenty-first time, I finally said “Just be honest with me. This is going no where good, right?” (more…)
From The airport diaries
My cries affirming my liberty were premature. The department store has many grasping tentacles it seems, and they are spurting their acrid slime all over my soul. I was “reminded” that my final pay cheque would be held back if I didn’t return my uniform, which is fair enough, but it meant venturing out to that barren place to deposit my washed, tumble dried/electrified polyester slave clothes. It speaks volumes that the only rebellion I could make was not to iron the uniform before stuffing it into a plastic bag. It crackled angrily at me and I smothered the urge to drown it in a canal, with bricks as ballast. (more…)
