The most random things always seem to happen when I travel. After eight days on the road, I eagerly made my way to the airport this afternoon. I arrived with plenty of time before my flight and leisurely wandered the Smithsonian Museum shop and a few other boutiques. I passed an attractively decorated wine bar that offered free wi-fi (why is it that I always find these when I'm not looking for either wine or free wi-fi and yet find them incredibly elusive when I am in need?!).
I made my way down to the gate and ran into my former boss. I haven't seen him in ages but had exchanged emails with his wife recently about getting together for dinner. It seemed pretty random to run in to him 2,000 miles from home!
As boarding time approached, the crush of humanity pressed in on the gate, as people eagerly awaited the agent to call their zone number. I'm not sure what these freaks think they are gaining by creating a dense, nearly impossible to navigate crowd for those who actually are in the zone being announced. But whatever, this happens every flight. I still don't understand it and likely never will. Traveling seems to bring out the douchebaggery in people.
But things took an interesting turn as we neared take off time. Joe Cool strolls back to the empty seat across the aisle from me on the third to LAST row of the plane with his carry on bag ten minutes before take off. Not too surprisingly, all the overhead bins are full, so Joe is bending over with his ass in my face trying to jam his carry-on bag under the seat in front of him. Seriously, I can't make this stuff up. But wait, it gets better.
The flight attendant comes up behind the guy to tell him that the bag will not fit under the seat and that he'll need to check it. The man snarls that he doesn't want the bag to be checked, the flight attendant replies that there isn't room for it and that if he'd like to carry it on he could book him on the next flight. The man scowls and says 'fine, book me on the next flight'. Now, I've been accused of cutting off my nose to spite my face many times in my life but this one may just take the cake.
Joe and the flight attendant head up the aisle to the front of the plane while those around me gaze in astonishment at one another. The story should have ended there but sadly the flight attendant found a spot for his bag near the front of the plane and the douche made his way back to his empty seat. Thank God for headphones and netbooks. In avoidance mode, I've produced a prolific amount of writing during this flight.
Did I mention that I think Jason Chaffetz is sitting in first class? Then again, I thought I saw Sean Means at the Oyster Bar last weekend so I might be full of BS. Oh, and that I could have a date with the flight attendant if I wanted. He knew my name, has already mentioned that I have a beautiful smile and that he doesn't bite, only nibbles. Random adventures in travel.