Too Grumpy to Fly

My new job - well, I guess it's not all THAT "new," because I'm celebrating my first anniversary in 3 weeks - anyway, my new job doesn't afford me much of an opportunity to travel. Apparently, that's a good thing, because I have grown far too grumpy to fly.

I took a quick 3-day trip down to Houston this past weekend. This necessitated my waiting in several airports and traveling on several airplanes. With other people. That's the downside of air travel. Other people.

First rattle out of the box, I share space with Mr. Cell Phone. Actually...that's not his name. I'll tell you his name in a few minutes, because I do know it. So does everyone else within three departure gates of our flight. Anyway, what IS it about cell phones that makes people yell into them? And what IS it about some people who apparently save up all their calls so that they can make them while waiting for airplanes? I know in my heart it's just so that the rest of us poor schmucks will be fully aware of just how busy and important these people are. I am usually not particularly impressed, however.

There were weather delays this weekend, so there weren't many choices about where to sit whilst waiting for our plane to arrive at our gate. I was stuck sitting next to this guy. The important guy with the cell phone. I quickly realized we were all going to be "treated" to endless illustrations of how important this guy was, but after a bit, I saw the humor in it. You see...it was his name. A name, which he repeated on call after call. I'm sure it was spelled something like BEAUNKMEYER. But, the pronunciation was "BOINKmeyer." Yes...BOINKmeyer. The only way it would have been funnier was if his name had been "BoinkMEISTER." I tried to entertain my self by giggling every time the guy connected with his latest victim and announced that "Billy Bob Boinkmeyer" was calling. But, after a while, even that game lost its charm, and I began to long for that fantasy of fantasies....a "Non Cell Phone" section. Seeing that there was none, I did the only thing I could do, under the circumstances. I endlessly walked the length of the terminal like a bag lady.

Next installment...the Whistling Hair Dresser.