Rant 14: Kiri, World Tour

Written, September 17th, 2008


Anyways, the trip. That was pretty fun all around, but no one wants to hear about that. What wasn't fun was fucking with the airports.

To start off, I showed up at the airport about a hour early, got my tickets, and went through security. Running my bag and laptop through an X-Ray machine along with my shoes. Anyway, after putting my shoes back on and repackaging my laptop, I sat for about twenty minutes, then boarded the plane from the single gate we have here.

The plane was small. Very small. Each wing had an engine in it that contained a midget and a pair of bike pedals. This was my first time flying, and apparently the pilot's as well. We taxied , and taxied. And Taxied some more, for about twenty minutes. It actually got to the point where I thought: "Huh, is there some kind of secret road just for planes to DRIVE to Houston? I've never flown, maybe all the movies, news, and books are wrong and the fucking thing just drives there. The guys that pull the backdrop over he windows must be off today." Well, we finally began to pick up speed, and took off. The take off wasn't too bad, considering that we were in a trash can with wings. The first flight was quick, and wasn't bad until it was over. When we landed in Houston, the plane proceeded to go straight down. The turbulance built, the panels shook like keys on a ring, and I said "Fuck it. Bring it down." We hit the ground so fucking hard I almost chipped a tooth.

Getting off of the plane I was greeted to a short bus for the retards in coach. I hopped on and checked my ticket, apparently the folks at the first airport are having budgeting problems, and are a tad low on ink, since none of my tickets had the fucking gates on them. I stepped on and looked over the slip about a dozen times to make sure I wasn't just missing it, but it became apparent by the first stop, that there had been a fuck up. As the first set of people exited the craft I made my way to the front of the bus and met an Angel. Well, more like an ogre. The bus driver had a female name tag, but had a dozen or so black hairs coming from her fat chin, but looking back, may have been my soul mate. Why? When I asked about my gates, she said.

"Where are you going?" and pulled out a small packet, and checked it over, then gave me the correct gate. She actually had her shit together. In-fucking-credible. This just doesn't happen, people who do their jobs don't so much DO their jobs, and drag their bloated corpse across them and leave a path of human waste. Skipping off of the bus, having a new brighter outlook on existence, I stepped into the Houston airport and glanced around. The signs hung over the halls did a pretty good job of directing me to my destination. I found a seat, sat down, and popped out my laptop. .....No signal. Wait, what the fuck? This is an airport, don't airports have wireless internet? Well, not this one. Not a free one anyways. Realizing I had failed to get Mael's cell number, I looked around for an alternative. I could A. Spend $5.95 for ten minutes at a station, or $7.95 for 24 hours access to the airport's router. Let's see, I was going to be here on lay over for approximately two hours:

5.95((10 min * 6)2 ) = $71.40

Well fuck that shit. I paid the $8 grudgingly and emailed Mael about the situation, then read half of the Flintlocke's Guide to Azeroth Archives. Suddenly something came over the intercom. "The Terror alert has been raised to Orange." Oh, that sounds ominous. Well, having my laptop at my side, I googled the website for the terror alerts and discovered something that broke the faith I had had just minutes before. Alright, I don't keep up with this shit, sue me.

Anyways, the last update was....September 10th, 2007. Well fuck, I guess the government doesn't bother to keep track of their own shit, but I should have guessed that by looking at the status of SOCIAL SECURITY. And that was probably just for "September 11th is come'n! We's betta gets that seh-cure-ity stuff up and protegt tha home lands!" After that I went back to more intelligant reading, a Dwarf trying to jam a woodchuck into a blunderbuss rifle.

Time passes, I watch Red Vs Blue, the plane is delayed due to navigational trouble. We get on fifteen minutes late. I sit for about ten minutes with my laptop under my feet and I fall asleep. Don't bitch, I was on the left side and had a single seat row. I wasn't going to sleep on someone's shoulder like a fat drooling baby. Anyways, I wake up and look at my watch, I've been out for about thirty five minutes. Look out the window and It's the same fucking thing I saw before I nodded off. We're still on the fucking ground, I woke up pissed.

"...What the fuck?" The elderly couple to my right leans over and says that now they're having engine trouble. Add all that together with the name of the plane, which is three letters away from "Embalmer" and you have me face palming loud enough that the people two seats infront of me turned around. Well this is fucking dandy, I'm already screwed. We FINALLY take off, and the plane goes strait up, causing half of the passangers to become sick, apparently THIS one skipped "Take off day" in flying school. After about an hour the flight crew starts talking about the delay, a handful of people going to Richmond are going to miss their flights. We should be docking at gate C, I'm informed that my next flight is at C, I will have a few minutes to catch it. No prob. Wait, almost forgot this was me we're talking about, there's ALWAYS a problem. We get to the airport and gate C's full, we land at gate A-1. Well, the Richmond people get to catch their flight, but if you're going to Cincinnati, you're fucked. I just happen to be going that way, along with two other people. I shoot out of the plane, and check the board, I'm due at gate C-71 in about seven minutes. Zetta Fuck. I pick my bag up off the ground, (It was a rolly suit case) lift the mother fucker over my head and fucking bolt. Remember the episode of Adam West Batman where he's carrying the bomb through the city?

For Seven Minutes, I was Batman.


Looking back, I can't believe security didn't tackle me. But I can't blame them, would you tackle Batman? Sprinting as fast as my legs would carry me, I arrived at A-75 , apparently I had to take a fucking shuttle to the Cs. I had run the whole fucking thing in two minutes, and was leaned over heaving. One of the other guys made it to the shuttle just as it pulled up, almost as out of breath as me. It pulled out and drove across the plane strips, one person had already missed his flight. As it pulled in and the doors opened, the race began again. We had two minutes left. I could totally fucking do this. I made the second run, darting from C-1 to C-70. I was tired, but didn't intend to spend a week in Cincinnati at the airport. They were closing the doors to the walkway as I arrived, I said nothing, and slipped through the crack in the door as the attendant huffed. She didn't stop, I didn't touch the door. The Batman power ran out as I staggered toward the plane, the attendant let me on and I sat in my seat, (Another lefty) and I was out. I was the only one who made the flight.

I woke up about twenty minutes before we landed, some old woman was talking to me. I don't remember what she said, but it wasn't terribly important. The plane let down and I got off at Manchester. THEY had free wireless. Best fucking airport ever. I pulled up my email, Mael had sent me her cell number. I called her and got Trezz, her boyfriend. Whoops, she'd left it at home.


After a week of helping everyone get the wedding put together and enjoying myself while NOT playing Warcraft, it was time to go home. Back to the airport. Manchester was still awesome, I watched and episode of Red Vs Blue on my laptop, then boarded the plane. Cleveland was not awesome. I decided that I had grow hungry, and began hunting for a place to get food at the airport. Everything was fucking packed. On a Tuesday. The first place i saw was "Banjo's Cafe", but the line lead out of the room and clustered infront of it. Fine, I didn't want Opossum stew anyways. Wandering around for a few more minutes within the labyrinth that was the airport and I found a Burger King. Whatever, it would do. I took a place in line behind the other six people who had managed to avoid the minotaur and waited. And waited. It took 45 minutes for me to even get to fucking order. Then I remembered why I didn't eat there in town, their food sucked.

Hoping onto the plane after having my stomach filled with cow scraps, the flight was full. This time I didn't get a single seat, I was in a row. Considering I was next to the fattest person on the plane, I actually had about 1/3 of a seat. Now someone's going to rag on me for this, but fuck them. I paid for a full seat, why do I only get one third of one? If you're so fat that you ooze over your seat, and into other people's you should have to pay for two seats. Literally the entire three hour flight, my left arm was covered in Hutt sweat. I didn't know if I was supposed to climb it, or bring her Han Solo. I put my headphones on and pretended I was sitting next to Jello, then played Marvel vs Capcom on my PSP. Of course I used Roll, since real men do.

Arriving in Houston, I found myself Hungry again. It was about 9:30PM, so the only thing open was Mc Donald's. Again, there's a reason I normally don't eat there in the city. I brought my food back to my seat in the now empty airport, and waited as Larry King played on the monitors. The plane arrived and I went home, wondering what the fuck had happened to an entire week.