Oh No Let'sGo

Oh No Let's Go

Some days are just too full of the vicissitudes of life that make an observer like me wear a  grin with a devilish gleam in my eye. Some may even hear the chuckle of my inner dialog. Where do I begin? Running mundane errands, and able to splice my alternative life into it without trying? Having pleasant conversations with the people you meet around town?
I take a taxi to the bus. Boring? Ordinary? no, I got a luxury car ride, as the regular taxi cabs were shuttling people back and forth to the Mall, shopping, I find out that people would rather have curb service, than search out a parking spot. I am filing that away for the next time I am overwhelmed with the need to participate in a commercialistic ritualistic merchandise expedition. I actually rather enjoy the hunt for a parking spot, and the sitting in said spot waiting to see how many people ask me if I am vacating it. I like waiting for the right person, polite, slightly timid, deserving.  I dislike greed and entitlement, but back to what I was up to today.
The afternoon coach to the airport was devoid of anyone except me, and the driver, and I enjoy watching the sun set over the fuel dump and oil tanks, sorry I didn't snap a quick picture, one doesnt see this too often, not when home, these are the things I like when traveling, and I remind myself that I am officially back on the Tour, even if 2500 miles from anything important.  I hand over my trusty little suitcase to the uniformed and pleasant airline worker. I am making it a point to be extremely pleasant to all workers this week, saving my usual sourness for civilians, we shall see how this turns out. She reprints my boarding pass for me without my asking, and directs me towards security.
Well, it is Stupid People Fly Day in Boston. Why I don't check these things out ahead of time is beyond me. The girl in front of me keeps stopping short, and backing up, and swinging her duffel bag around, causing me to jump back, and swivel to avoid a black eye. While a black eye may improve my looks, I don't want one at this moment, and spoil the chances to get one while at a concert. I finally catch the eye of a TSA agent, who flinches as I nimbly sashay around Miss Duffel, and cut to the head of her queue. Miss Duffel is right behind me, with absolutely no respect for personal space, hitting my behind with her duffel.  Frontal and now posterior assault, and haven't even been offered a drink yet. Not that an arrogant 20 something female is my type.
I finally ditch my nemesis of the hour and get into a security line with a lovely lady much like me in front of me. We both have little netbooks, boots, and coats and scarfs to doff, arrange correctly into the bins provided, and we know how to stand in the little yellow footprint provided to await out turn to be irradiated. She admired my choice of matching hair and nail color, as I bemoan the broken nail I suffered at the hands of Miss Duffel. I make it through the full body scan without setting off alarms, either of the electrical or horrified nature, gather my cheap electronics, knock of purse and coat, and  my no animals products used in the making of these boots, pull myself back together, and make my way to the furthest gate possible, past a few questionable smelling food emporiums, and seek out a spot, with electrical supply. I glower at anyone coming near me, to save the other half of the spot for my anonymous travel partner.
 I am amazed at the type of people who chose a cut rate carrier.  Cheap luggage abounds, and also cheap cell phones. The kind that were given out for free several years ago, do they still work? I chose a plane because it will get me to where I need to go. I also used to choose cheap luggage until I found myself being paged at an airport, with an exploded and shrink wrapped bag awaiting me. Now I pack my cheap clothes into an expensive suitcase, use my iphone, fly on cheap carriers, to go to dubious locations and dodgy lodgings. Or not.
So, boarding the plane we find a lady in our seat, as she is unable to differentiate the letters "C" and"D". She is hustled into her own seat, and I proceed to practice trashing a hotel room by trashing my airplane seat. We have no one between us, so we take it over, bags, snacks, clothing items, head phones. I had planned to sleep this flight, exhausted myself so that sleep would come easily, but alas, we had satellite television, and the 12-12-12 concert was on, all my old friends, a veritable collection of skinny old Englishmen, not the ones I am fondest of, but fascinating me sufficiently enough to keep me captivated as we flew over Ohio, Illinois, Kansas, waving at all our friends on the ground.
My seat was broken, it stayed reclined, would not lock in its upright position, but  I managed to survive takeoff and the flight unscathed, until it was time to land. I was forced to sit in the trashed middle seat. The TV wasn't working, so I had to watch Paul McCartney on one set, and have my earphones plugged into another, probably breaking several federal regulations, but, Hey, its a Beatle, and I almost didn't notice the landing.
Off the plane, and there is a rule that mobility challenged people deplane last, so why was there a wheel chair blocking us? We had a desperate need to get to a bar for a drink. At Baggage claim, I decreed that our bags be first, and they were! Since I had checked in an hour earlier, this was proof that karma was working on our side, or that the airline was eager to rid itself of our rock star diva trashy behavior.
Another bus to the car rental desks, and after initialling the box to ok the rental, signing the line to ok initialling boxes, and initialling the signature line to initiate the signing process we are directed to a line of cars, and asked to chose one. I chose the red mustang convertable, but they wouldn't give it to us. We took whatever car the suitcases would fit into, and after another identification check, and a set of locks to rival the Panama Canal, or Alcatraz, we are off! We find our hotel, tucked away, and we tuck ourselves in for the night, just like rock stars, we need our sleep.
I did get my drink.