In het kader van de titel in de subject een stukje dat ik tegen kwam op de fanatische blog Getting Drunk in First Class, een blog geschreven door mijn gelijken (consultants dus). Fantastisch!
Dear Vacation-Bound Infrequent Traveler,
From the moment I saw you fumbling your way through the metal detector three times back in security (it was I who preemptively yelled “MALE ASSIST”), I prayed we would not be on the same aircraft. But thank you for sitting next to me and reaching out to be my new “flight friend” despite the clear signals I was sending by refusing to remove my headphones. That was certainly a vapid conversation we had, was it not? I did not agree that all babies brought onto airplanes should be drunk or smothered. It is my personal belief (as a consultant) that there are more innovative solutions such as soundproof crates. I do however agree with your interesting view that seats on any flight with an endpoint in Dallas should be 80% wider.
Vacation-Bound Infrequent Traveler, I want to talk to you about something serious, almost as serious as the argument you had with the flight attendant (and for the record, I never thought it would fit in the overhead). I am not certain you had the right to remove your shoes. I do not care how drunk I am, your feet are foul. V-BIT, you are such a dick sometimes. One time when you reclined suddenly, you almost crushed my laptop behind you. This is why I gently sprinkled snack mix crumbs on your scalp. Or consider this: Wouldn’t it be nice if you did not travel while sick, caught in death’s ephemeral grip; coughing, choking, whipping up a nice flying fucking germtube? Somber news, friend: The reason you are not wearing a wedding ring is because you snore. I am a doctor. You have sleep apnea, and the capacity for sentient thought bleeds from your soul with every night’s welcome rest. Just kidding. Ass.
Remember when I launched the hostile takeover of the armrest? Hahah remember that? Ohhh god.
I had to wait for you to use the bathroom because the armrest had become lost in your overflowing V-BIT fleshtub.
On your next flight, when returning from the restroom, I would suggest calling out to passengers in a professional voice, “Watch your elbows.”
Yes, I already received your business card, so that’s all set. Well, good luck with earning status. And try to fly Jet Blue, the ground delays will help you diet.
Fondly,
MensaMember
P.S. You look like a bobblehead when you sleep, and I pointed this out to other passengers.
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