Well I'm not going to say "the world" that's just asking for rebuttal!
Anyway... It was a bit of a crappy week. Started out headed for Georgia to do a job and got redirected to a job in PA. THat job was hot, nasty and ran over into late Friday so I didn't get s fligh back to Orland until Saturday morning. So it's up at 4AM to get to the airport and catch a flight at 6 through Philly. What a cesspool! That airport hasn't changed since I moved out of Philly 14 years ago. The people are still rude and obnoxious and have no clue what customer service is all about.
The flight out of Philly on Useless Air is what I expected. Seems that any and every flight to Orlando is a Mickey Mouse flight with screaming and crying kids and parents that either don't want to correct their brats or don't know how to effectively discipline their critters. The only saving grace is that I have a window seat on the bulkhead behind me. Well at least until a woman asks me to swap seats with her so her little girl doesn't have to sit by herself. Not wanting to seem the azzhat by asking why she didn't make the arrangements for 2 seats sided by side before getting on the plane, I acted the gentleman and agreed.
Now I'm originally in row 20, her seat is in row 16. Mine was a window, her's is a center seat. Oh well. Once a Bot Scout, always a Boy Scout. Now the problem is handling the heard in the isle. I move into the isle pointed the "wrong" direction according to the rest of the herd. I loudly make the announcement while pointing at a fairly large guy with 2 kids in tow "Stop at row 16 so I can move up that way!" He acknowledges me and hold the line. Now the woman with the little baby in her arms standing in front of me starts this weird in and out of the isle dance with me.
I step into the row near me so she can go past at the same time she does the same thing for me. Any way. I finally get to the row and climb into the center seat. I'm a big guy and not all aircraft seats are kind. Fortunately for me, there is a relatively slim guy sitting isle side and the window seat is empty, for now. The herd progresses and finally the last person to board the plane is the one for the window seat next to me. Oh well, it's a full row. At this point I'm just glad to be headed home.
They close the doors and run through the cursory safety spiel (Is there anyone in the modern world that really does not know how to operate a seat belt?) and head for the taxi way. The pilot comes on and welcomes everyone aboard and summarily announces that we are number 6 for take off. At Philly, any number not in the teens is a good thing. Anyway, I'm one of them that falls asleep as soon as the doors shut and generally doesn't wake up until the wheels hit the ground, but for some reason it wasn't happening this time. Could have been the screamer 3 rows back, the snorting 300 pound teenager in front or the perfume the girl next to me was wearing but the snooze wasn't there.
We get to Orlando early. Yeah! Boo! we have to wait for the ground crew to catch up to us so we can dock that puppy at the gate. People jumping up before we get to the gat and attendants squawking for everyone to sit down until we get to the gate. Had to laugh at one little impatient boy that honestly and openly asked his dad "Why can't we go? I can see the gate?" Good question.
Finally off the plane and on to the baggage claim. Get there to see the list of 4 other flights that landed 20 minutes before mine and those passengers are still waiting for their bags. Not a good sign. The carousel start and bingo! My bags are among the first on the carousel. Grab them and head for the remote parking pick up slot where I wait 15 minutes (next to the sign that tells us the bus runs every 10 minutes) for the bus to take me to my car. Get to the car and way I go!
Get on I4 and run smack into the back end of a gaper block. And it's about 6 miles long. Check my gas gage and I'm a little lower than I like but I should be able to get home on what I have. I call my wife who I promised lunch 'out' when I get home to, to let her know how my morning has gone and that it will be a late lunch. She tells me not to worry.
I finally make the 60 minute ride in 90 minutes, get gas, adding another 10 minute to the already screwed up late arrival. Pick her up and go have a relaxing lunch at the local Outback whre the waitress brings creamy onion soup instead of the French Onion I asked for. But it was good.
After all of this, we finish lunch, walk out to the car. My wife stop me before I can open her door and asks me to pop the trunk. I do it. She reaches into the trunk, pulls out my fully loaded range bag and asks "you wanna go burn some ammo?"
God! I love that woman!
Anyway... It was a bit of a crappy week. Started out headed for Georgia to do a job and got redirected to a job in PA. THat job was hot, nasty and ran over into late Friday so I didn't get s fligh back to Orland until Saturday morning. So it's up at 4AM to get to the airport and catch a flight at 6 through Philly. What a cesspool! That airport hasn't changed since I moved out of Philly 14 years ago. The people are still rude and obnoxious and have no clue what customer service is all about.
The flight out of Philly on Useless Air is what I expected. Seems that any and every flight to Orlando is a Mickey Mouse flight with screaming and crying kids and parents that either don't want to correct their brats or don't know how to effectively discipline their critters. The only saving grace is that I have a window seat on the bulkhead behind me. Well at least until a woman asks me to swap seats with her so her little girl doesn't have to sit by herself. Not wanting to seem the azzhat by asking why she didn't make the arrangements for 2 seats sided by side before getting on the plane, I acted the gentleman and agreed.
Now I'm originally in row 20, her seat is in row 16. Mine was a window, her's is a center seat. Oh well. Once a Bot Scout, always a Boy Scout. Now the problem is handling the heard in the isle. I move into the isle pointed the "wrong" direction according to the rest of the herd. I loudly make the announcement while pointing at a fairly large guy with 2 kids in tow "Stop at row 16 so I can move up that way!" He acknowledges me and hold the line. Now the woman with the little baby in her arms standing in front of me starts this weird in and out of the isle dance with me.
I step into the row near me so she can go past at the same time she does the same thing for me. Any way. I finally get to the row and climb into the center seat. I'm a big guy and not all aircraft seats are kind. Fortunately for me, there is a relatively slim guy sitting isle side and the window seat is empty, for now. The herd progresses and finally the last person to board the plane is the one for the window seat next to me. Oh well, it's a full row. At this point I'm just glad to be headed home.
They close the doors and run through the cursory safety spiel (Is there anyone in the modern world that really does not know how to operate a seat belt?) and head for the taxi way. The pilot comes on and welcomes everyone aboard and summarily announces that we are number 6 for take off. At Philly, any number not in the teens is a good thing. Anyway, I'm one of them that falls asleep as soon as the doors shut and generally doesn't wake up until the wheels hit the ground, but for some reason it wasn't happening this time. Could have been the screamer 3 rows back, the snorting 300 pound teenager in front or the perfume the girl next to me was wearing but the snooze wasn't there.
We get to Orlando early. Yeah! Boo! we have to wait for the ground crew to catch up to us so we can dock that puppy at the gate. People jumping up before we get to the gat and attendants squawking for everyone to sit down until we get to the gate. Had to laugh at one little impatient boy that honestly and openly asked his dad "Why can't we go? I can see the gate?" Good question.
Finally off the plane and on to the baggage claim. Get there to see the list of 4 other flights that landed 20 minutes before mine and those passengers are still waiting for their bags. Not a good sign. The carousel start and bingo! My bags are among the first on the carousel. Grab them and head for the remote parking pick up slot where I wait 15 minutes (next to the sign that tells us the bus runs every 10 minutes) for the bus to take me to my car. Get to the car and way I go!
Get on I4 and run smack into the back end of a gaper block. And it's about 6 miles long. Check my gas gage and I'm a little lower than I like but I should be able to get home on what I have. I call my wife who I promised lunch 'out' when I get home to, to let her know how my morning has gone and that it will be a late lunch. She tells me not to worry.
I finally make the 60 minute ride in 90 minutes, get gas, adding another 10 minute to the already screwed up late arrival. Pick her up and go have a relaxing lunch at the local Outback whre the waitress brings creamy onion soup instead of the French Onion I asked for. But it was good.
After all of this, we finish lunch, walk out to the car. My wife stop me before I can open her door and asks me to pop the trunk. I do it. She reaches into the trunk, pulls out my fully loaded range bag and asks "you wanna go burn some ammo?"
God! I love that woman!
