Thursday, January 27, 2005

Where Am I?

One sleepy cowboy here, pardners. Got in very late (1 a.m. late) from Chicago last night and a day that began at 4:30 a.m., and am still figuring out which way is up. (Trick question: The coffee cup is always up.)

But it's a bright, cold, and blue-sky day here, and I'm quickly regaining my senses.

Funny experience on the plane last night: It's about 9:15 p.m. in Chicago, and we're boarding. I'm in my isle seat, and a woman walks up to the row in front of me and declares, loudly, "Alright, oneaya's gonna haveta moveuerass! Whoshit gonna be?!"

She. Is. HAMMERED.

One of the other passengers politely points out that she's actually in 10A a seat that's ... surprise ... open. So she makes her way to the seat, and proceeds to talk to the man in 10C. Loudly. Loudly enough that wifey, who's on the phone with me, is saying "Who's that strange woman?"

So this poor guy, who's of Asian decent, is subjected to a stream of her drunken ranting. Examples:
"Letsh go! Letsh goo!! Iwannagohome!!!"

[De-icing begins] "Loook! Shmoke! Wereonfire!!! I'monlykiddn! Bwahahahahaha!!!!"
And this exchange:
"Whereyoufrom, bigboy?"

[With his accent]: "Sicago"

"Where?"

"Sicago."

"WHAT?? WHERE???"

"Si. Ca. Go."

"Ohhhh ... shhicaaago!! Why you goin' to Philly? Work? Fun?"

"I'm going to a funeral ... my great aunt died."

"Awwwww ... I'm shorrry."


[A few moments of nearly incoherent rambling]

"Yaknow ... we're only here for sho long ... ya gatta have fun, you know? I mean, do your thing and fuckem, you know? Pardon my french ..."
I'm certain he felt much better. After a few more minutes of "Letshgo!!" I say to the guy next to me: "What's the over / under on how soon she passes out? I say 15 minutes after takeoff." I was 8 minutes long.

So here's to you, drunken obnoxious racially inappropriate lady. Hope you didn't kill anyone on the way home, and thank God you didn't sit next to me.

1 Comments:

At 1:22 AM, Blogger j said...

when a person like that says "one-uv-ya is gonna hafta moove-ur-ass" I typically get right up, apologize profusely and give him or her my seat -- rolling the dice with the "seating partner" odds.
By weird fluke of coincidence, _I_ sat down on the 12:00 eastbound flight Wednesday afternoon next to Steve @#$%(#&* Emtman!!!!! Steve is number 74 on the College Football News list of all time college players, and was the anchor of the great 1991 University of Washington National Championship team defense (and the number one draft pick by the Colts). "Mr. Emtman?" I say, not beleiving it. "Yes." I tell him how _I was there_ at the home game when he did the post-safety Husky stadium end-zone dance (as if firing pistols at the sky) in the Arizona game, and that it has been one of the great "sports fan" moments of my life. He explains that it was "the luckiest year of [his] life," and suggests that the Arizona player "tripped on my foot" (which is _not_ how I and 70,000 other people remember it). We talk about his business (high end artificial grass), the Dawgs, coaching (he's also working as the UW strength coach), teaching young men and life in general, and he's as nice a guy as you could ever meet. I could have died right then.

p.s. sometimes you can get lucky with those drunk airline passenger chicks (and they don't usually remember).

 

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