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| Exibit A: Best. Food. Court. EVER. ALSO http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5K1RcKJVbHA |
The Dallas Fort Worth airport is pretty nice I have to
say. All around the seating area I now
find myself in there are a few fairly interesting things that I have been
gradually exploring during my SUPER FUN and EXTREMELY BEARABLE (that’s sarcasm)
5 hour layover. It has some cool art
like this 30 foot tall castle looking thing that would probably fit in just
fine in a Tim Burton movie if only for the fact that it is silver, sitting in
the middle of the D terminal. There are
also three tequila bars / taco-joints tastefully juxtaposed in what I guess is
the food court. But this isn’t just any
food court as it would appear at first glance.
No, interwoven between the coffee shops, Chinese fast food joints and
home-style Texas Bar-B-Qs there quietly lies another type of store, but not
just any store. It would seem this is in
fact a food court with a bookstore. Now
this doesn’t seem too farfetched, that is until further inspection. Apparently this isn’t just any bookstore;
it’s a bookstore whose façade consists almost entirely of a giant poster. And this isn’t just any poster, it’s a poster
advertising the New York Times best seller 50
Shades of Grey with the slogan “Reading for pleasure has a whole new
meaning”. God, its good to know that
being tasteful is an American trait, not something reserved for us
Yankees. Now, I could go into a whole
shpeel about this book and how hilarious / generally amazing it is, but I think
I will refrain. Ask me about it in
person and well have a grand chat between old chaps about this timeless classic.
But alas I digress.
Now I’ll keep this part of this entry fairly short because I
am well aware of the fact that I stretched my artistic license a little thin in
that previous paragraph. But I got to
say, that old cliché about how you never know who is going to sit next to you
is so unbelievably true that it is unbelievable. For instance, when I was 13 or 14, I was
flying to California during summer break to visit my family and I happened to
be sitting next to a very attractive young woman. At the time, my adolescent reasoning skills
determined that she was of approximately college age or perhaps slightly
older. In short she probably could have
been anywhere from 17-30 years old because well, who actually knows what goes
through the minds of pubescent males.
Anyways, take note that I vividly remember her wearing a grey tank top,
which I can best describe as a lady white-beater. So the plane takes off and the flight is
moving along swimmingly, nice and boring.
To me travel is supposed to be like a trip to the doctors: you show up,
you drop your shorts, the doctor does his job, you do yours, you pull up your
pants, shake his hand and say “Good seeing you Doc, till next year” and then
its all over. Not necessarily comfortable,
but its business that needs to get done.
Business is business and boring is always a good thing when it comes
down to that type of business. Anyways,
this flight got very much less boring and I would dare say it even approached
the realm of interesting when this woman decided put her hands together and
reach for the sky, well space I suppose seeing as we were already pretty far up
in the sky at that point. I saw her move
out of the corner of my eye and I glanced over to see what all the commotion
was about, and then I saw it. This woman
had the hairiest armpits that God ever put on this good green earth and they also
had a very distinct and not perfectly pleasant scent to them as well. To be honest I’m not sure if there was a
smell, it could have simply been my subconscious telling my nose that armpits
like that had to come with an odor and it promptly filled in the blank left by
the lack of sensory input. Anyways, at
that point she sees me looking and we make some very awkward eye contact and I
proceed to say, “Sorry Babe, its just not meant to be”. Our gaze lingers for a moment and then she
breaks down and starts hysterically crying about her future and all the years
of her life that I have wasted.
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| Exhibit B: Floor of Row 7 seats A, B, C I like to think that her name was Fluffy McSnugglebottoms. What a cutie |
JUST KIDDING. None of
that is true. But she did have really
hairy armpits. But back to why that’s
relevant. Now, I know many of my readers
(I will assume that more people than just me read this) have a bit of a green
thumb, an interest in the botanical arts if you will. And I know for a fact that some of you like
to practice your interest in herbage in various places and have transported it
great distances in order to do so. Well
all I can say is that it is a good thing you weren’t on the same plane as me
this morning. For the entire duration of
my flight from Boston to Dallas, there was a police dog happily curled up on
the floor by my mother, who I just happened to be sitting next to. Now I am not implying that I do, because I
don’t (MOM), partake in any questionably legal / decriminalized practices (depending
on what state you’re in). But if I did and if I were like my friends who like
to travel with their… items of interest… today probably would have been pretty
high up on the Worst Day Ever scale (units = balls/m3). The moral of the story is you never know who
is going to sit next to you until they are sitting right there next to
you. And as always, you don’t know ‘till
you know, Jimmer.
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