It wasn’t even lunchtime and I had already sweat through my second T shirt of the day and wrung out my socks. Forget about my underwear: I was sitting in a puddle by the time I found my seat and two days later another pair drowned a slow death. I don’t say these things to disgust you (just imagine how nauseous my dry cleaner feels!) I say them to warn you: Don’t go to Phoenix! It’s not worth it. Also, what a dumb word: Phoenix. Plus, it doesn’t even rhyme with anything except penix or wenix and even that’s a stretch…
The absolutely, positively, only good part of my trip to Phoenix was when a minivan jetted passed me on the highway. It sped by doing about ninety, but caught my eye for sure. I had to gun it in my little rented Toyota Corolla to catch her and then I was swerving all over the road trying to take the picture below. Coordination is not my strong suit when sitting still, so imagine it during a high-speed chase! I felt like I was on The Dukes of Hazzard. That may sound dangerous but it was worth risking life and limb to get the photo. I tried to get the girl driving the car in the picture too, but she was just going to fast and took off like a rocket. The crew from Pimp My Ride must have souped her up because that was the fastest minivan that I’ve ever seen! I am a firm believer I things happening for a reason and I think she sped by me to reinforce that even in the hottest hell on earth – breasts can always make it better! Those breasts up ahead were the light at the end of the tunnel for me as I was about to vomit from the heat again. And that, my friends, is the closest that I will ever come to divine intervention!
I couldn’t even escape the lunatics at the hotel bar. All of a sudden this random guy sits down cheery as can be because he has had the best sales day of his career. Apparently, he’s a paint salesman and had sold 33,000 gallons that day. He didn’t get my joke when I asked if he had to lug each paint can door to door…and then he proceeded to tell me that he was “The right guy, selling the right paint, to the right people at the right time.” I busted out laughing at that and he got annoyed because I accidentally laughed in his face. I said “‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, I just thought you were kidding.” Apparently, the paint industry is very serious. I couldn’t be that mean either because it was an airport property and there weren’t that many people in the bar. I had very limited conversation choices: it was either talk with him about paint in all it’s glory or talk to the 20ish girl tending bar who said she was trying to get something “heartfelt” for her boyfriend’s graduation at Walmart. She gave me a dirty look when I laughed out loud but I couldn’t tell if he was graduating from Walmart or what she thought might be “heartfelt” there anyway.
Start to finish, this was the worst trip I’ve ever been on. I started out almost knocking myself unconscious in the driveway when I hit my head with the trunk while trying to close it after loading luggage in which resulted in a big red gash on my forehead, I ended up delayed seven hours at various airports, getting bumped from two flights and missing a connecting flight, had a full-on anxiety attack because they didn’t send my luggage with the flight for some reason but still charged me to check the bag, then I found out that I was charged for two airline tickets instead of one and then they proceeded to tell me that it was my fault, the boxes with presentation giveaways for my clients that I had shipped to my hotel didn’t arrive on time, and did I mention the heat and the sweating?
That’s not even to talk about the old lady on the security line who was holding everything up because security had to come over. Apparently, she thought it was a good idea to bring two cans of tuna fish, a plastic squeeze bottle of mayonnaise, slices of bread, and a plastic knife in her carry-on bag. She was gonna make a little snack mid-flight. What is wrong with people that they think they can make stinky tuna sandwich on a plane? The stink alone is reason not to do it even if it was allowed. And where was she planning on draining that tuna? Why wouldn’t you make the sandwich before hand?
After her I was at my gate (before the first delay and then de-planing) and the lady scanning the boarding passes had to call security on the guy in front of me. After being told his carry on bag was too big, he took all of his clothes out and carried them under his arm and abandoned the suitcase at her counter and tried to walk around her and board the plane with an armful of shirts, boxers, pants and socks. She was yelling at him not to leave his bag there unattended and he tried to ignore her and she called security. I never did see him get on the plane, so who knows what happened to him after that…
Am I the only one who goes through the airport security line scanning the crowd to see who I would be friends with if we crashed onto and island like Oceanic 815 on LOST? Obviously, I’m not looking for Kate, Hurley or Jack, but I give the people a once-over and see who’s gonna be dead-weight if a boar comes charging at us, who’s most likely a fugitive, who has a drug problem…and It helps me realize that as crazy as I may be, there are quite a few more nuts than me!!!