Now I'm Here, Now I'm There Complete With Drunken McDrunksalot Action
We're back in the States for a few days, but it has not been without bumps and dramas.
Jim just about drove me around the bend with last second packing, He somehow managed to open each and every cabinet and closet hanging. Bins of fall clothing upended and scattered, his box of ties scattered like autumnal leaves. I got very bent out of shape because of this. I do my packing in an extremely organized fashion. I have my toiletry bag permanently packed I just toss in. I keep my clothes for the States sorted into zippered cubes by season. Toss in the right season, toss in the toiletries and underwear and you are packed. Not so with Jim
Travel is travel. Flight from Liberia, Costa Rica to Atlanta, Georgia, smooth, completely unremarkable.
And then it got weird. Flight from Atlanta to Washington D.C. We get on the plane and the area is hit by a sudden pop up storm, high winds. So we sat on the tarmac.
As the grounded minutes ticked by I started to notice that the flight attendants kept coming over to talk to the two guys seated right behind us. Their seats were against the back wall of the plane and we were right in front of them. They kept questioning the guys, waning ot know if one of them was lucid enough to fly. His friend kept telling the stewardesses that his friend was merely 'tired' and needed to sleep.
The guy smelled like he'd been sleeping in an empty vat at the Seagrams Distillery in Seymour, Indiana, waves of booze smell wafting off him. He could not speak. He only grunted and moaned. He was 'sick' according to his friends. The flight attendants had to make the determination if he was fit to fly, and decided to let him fly, even if it was clearly he was drunker than who shot Cooter Brown.
Finally we were airborne. At first I'd just hear a moan or a sigh, but then bare feet started to creepy over, almost into my lap. He was sticking his feet into the gap between the seats and thrashing about.
About that time I started thinking about how hideously sucky it is that I've heard of folks being refused a seat on the plane for less, and the fact that Delta Airlines management passed the buck to the poor flight attendants to make the determination of fitness. That's something that they need to either standardize and maybe train the people better. They let this idiot fly, and it got much worse in a hurry.
First it was just the cursing. Between moans, groans, grunts and various rude bodily noises he started yelling words like "FUCK!" and "SHIT!". He proceeded to thrash around, stick more feet various places, kick the back of my seat and started singing. They called that thing you never want to hear on a flight, a call for "Is there a doctor aboard?" The doctor showed up, listened to the drunk babble and prescribed oxygen.
The oxygen just perked him up, and the activity increased. Then Drunky McDrinksalot started roaming the damn plane, sitting or falling to the floor with more cursing, trying to sit on a flight attendants lap, and crashing the flight attendant area.
We got the hell away from him as soon as the plane landed. He was sadly weeping on a flight attendant;s shoulder he didn't want to get off the plane because he knew they were going to arrest him. and he'd just gotten out of rehab again.
I didn't appreciate that the Delta employees didn't have him removed before the flight because it was obvious to anyone with eyes on their head that he was falling down drunk. But at the same time it's a big responsibility to put on a flight attendant.
His asshole friend walked away moaning into his phone that the airline overreacted and arrested him. Did I mention that the friend was drinking on the flight, the attendants selling him several drinks, at least one of which made it into the super drunk guy. Irresponsible.
We've been recovering from that and being stuck in a three hour traffic jam on I66. But Jim has left on his way to his 50th high school reunion and I'm moved onto the pleasant part of the trip, shopping, lunching with wonderful friends and more shopping.
Amazon sent my new computer here and it was swiped when the stupid delivery man decided to just leave it sitting out in the mail room, so I had to immediately go out and get a new computer. My old lap top has been dying for the last few months.
Today I had to hit Kohl's sales rack and stock up. Tomorrow I'm buying underwear and otc stuff at Target. So tired tonight! But so happy to see my family.
Jim just about drove me around the bend with last second packing, He somehow managed to open each and every cabinet and closet hanging. Bins of fall clothing upended and scattered, his box of ties scattered like autumnal leaves. I got very bent out of shape because of this. I do my packing in an extremely organized fashion. I have my toiletry bag permanently packed I just toss in. I keep my clothes for the States sorted into zippered cubes by season. Toss in the right season, toss in the toiletries and underwear and you are packed. Not so with Jim
Travel is travel. Flight from Liberia, Costa Rica to Atlanta, Georgia, smooth, completely unremarkable.
And then it got weird. Flight from Atlanta to Washington D.C. We get on the plane and the area is hit by a sudden pop up storm, high winds. So we sat on the tarmac.
As the grounded minutes ticked by I started to notice that the flight attendants kept coming over to talk to the two guys seated right behind us. Their seats were against the back wall of the plane and we were right in front of them. They kept questioning the guys, waning ot know if one of them was lucid enough to fly. His friend kept telling the stewardesses that his friend was merely 'tired' and needed to sleep.
The guy smelled like he'd been sleeping in an empty vat at the Seagrams Distillery in Seymour, Indiana, waves of booze smell wafting off him. He could not speak. He only grunted and moaned. He was 'sick' according to his friends. The flight attendants had to make the determination if he was fit to fly, and decided to let him fly, even if it was clearly he was drunker than who shot Cooter Brown.
Finally we were airborne. At first I'd just hear a moan or a sigh, but then bare feet started to creepy over, almost into my lap. He was sticking his feet into the gap between the seats and thrashing about.
About that time I started thinking about how hideously sucky it is that I've heard of folks being refused a seat on the plane for less, and the fact that Delta Airlines management passed the buck to the poor flight attendants to make the determination of fitness. That's something that they need to either standardize and maybe train the people better. They let this idiot fly, and it got much worse in a hurry.
First it was just the cursing. Between moans, groans, grunts and various rude bodily noises he started yelling words like "FUCK!" and "SHIT!". He proceeded to thrash around, stick more feet various places, kick the back of my seat and started singing. They called that thing you never want to hear on a flight, a call for "Is there a doctor aboard?" The doctor showed up, listened to the drunk babble and prescribed oxygen.
The oxygen just perked him up, and the activity increased. Then Drunky McDrinksalot started roaming the damn plane, sitting or falling to the floor with more cursing, trying to sit on a flight attendants lap, and crashing the flight attendant area.
We got the hell away from him as soon as the plane landed. He was sadly weeping on a flight attendant;s shoulder he didn't want to get off the plane because he knew they were going to arrest him. and he'd just gotten out of rehab again.
I didn't appreciate that the Delta employees didn't have him removed before the flight because it was obvious to anyone with eyes on their head that he was falling down drunk. But at the same time it's a big responsibility to put on a flight attendant.
His asshole friend walked away moaning into his phone that the airline overreacted and arrested him. Did I mention that the friend was drinking on the flight, the attendants selling him several drinks, at least one of which made it into the super drunk guy. Irresponsible.
We've been recovering from that and being stuck in a three hour traffic jam on I66. But Jim has left on his way to his 50th high school reunion and I'm moved onto the pleasant part of the trip, shopping, lunching with wonderful friends and more shopping.
Amazon sent my new computer here and it was swiped when the stupid delivery man decided to just leave it sitting out in the mail room, so I had to immediately go out and get a new computer. My old lap top has been dying for the last few months.
Today I had to hit Kohl's sales rack and stock up. Tomorrow I'm buying underwear and otc stuff at Target. So tired tonight! But so happy to see my family.
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