Planes, Trains And Automobiles Are Stupid And I’m Done With Them: Part 1 (Probably. Maybe Last Part. I Don’t Know.)

It’s been far too long since I’ve posted, but I’ve been on the road for what seems like 17 years. I’m not a big traveler. I would say I’m more a mid-sized traveler.

Actual conversation while waiting to get off plane:

Me: I hate people that don’t know how a line works.

Guy in front of me: Oh man I’m sorry! Go ahead!

Me: Oh no I wasn’t talking to you!

Which is true. I was talking about him. To everyone. He just heard me. Oops.

And then there was the ticket agent who was telling me I wouldn’t get the seat I requested because I didn’t check in online 24 hours before. You should have heard some of the things I said about her to other people while she was in earshot. I was telling everyone about all the jerks while the jerks were listening. This way when I’m confronted by one of them I can say, “I wasn’t talking to you.” And it’s true.

I developed this system as a kid while trying to avoid getting punched in the face again. They say it’s called passive-aggressive. I call it deeeelicious. I can have my cake and eat it too. Watch this. Shut up! (Not you.)

The other thing nobody realizes at that damn airport is that I’m not where I want to be. And you’d think everyone would be a little more sensitive to that fact, but noooooooooooo. They have places they’d rather be. Then it becomes this battle of wills, as many refuse to recognize my plans are more important than theirs. It’s very frustrating.

I have to go again in a few days, which means more lines, more removing shoes in less than ideal situations, more uncomfortable seating and more socially awkward moments I’ll undoubtedly manufacture. I also have this thing where I can’t hide my feelings. They’ll just pop out of my face in clouds of sarcasm.

It happened a lot more during my childhood. I learned early on that people will hit you, perhaps in a momentary lapse of confusion when suddenly enveloped by a mockery cloud. An instinctive reaction, like swatting at a bee or something. They can’t help it. They just start swinging wildly. This is why I always carry a tennis racket in my pocket. Remember that.

When I’m not in a plane or in a car, I’m working. Or playing a video game, but that’s late at night when time doesn’t matter. I might be a mid-size traveler, but I am definitely a large child. And the adult and child in me fight all the time.

For example, I go to bed early last night so I can get a good night’s sleep, wake up early and do the long list of things I haven’t done and need to do before I go. (Adult win!)

I get up at 6:30. My plan is working perfectly. (Adult still in charge.)

By 6:40, I’ve got my coffee. I sit down, start flipping to find something on tv other than the vacuum cleaner infomercial I’d been listening to and dreaming about for the previous 2 hours, then what do I find? Rocky marathon.

Can you believe the luck? What am I going to do now? I can’t get a break. They’re showing at least 1-5. I don’t know if they’ll play 6, but I really have to get moving at some point and it depresses me, anyway. Spoiler alert: Rocky owns a restaurant and gets beat up again, loses, but not as bad as you’d expect. Seriously? That’s what I waited 30 years for? I’m just going to pretend we stopped at 5 when he beat up Tommy Gunn in a Philly street before punching a shady promoter. (Can’t wait! Woo hoo!) (Damn. Here we go again.)

You see my dilemma, though this internal struggle is mine alone. The adult in me is larger, yet the child is super scrappy and in better shape. It’s going to be a long day. You can’t help me with this. Just wish me luck.

As far as you, the clock is ticking to go have one of the most enjoyable times you’ll ever have. Labor Day is now only a couple weeks away and there’s still time for a visit or two before the huge blowout at The Dip. It’s not too late, and more than likely, you don’t have to get on a plane to do it. Which is awesome, because I really don’t need more people at the airport right now.









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