The section of airport we sat in awaiting our "puddle jumper" to Maui appeared to be where they send the bad passengers who try to bring bottles of water and change in their pockets. "We say no change through detector. You sit now in 'dis section and t'ink 'bout watchu did. Maholo."
It was almost as bad as Long Beach, just minus the chain linked fence and the chickens. So, now I'm on the plane waiting to leave. Rob and I are both blogging while we wait for more passengers to fill the plane and take away the empty seat beside me, and along with it, what little leg room I have.
It was crazily funny when the flight attendant (who looks like a short-white reject from the Harlem Globetrotters) announced that he would be serving drinks once we reach cruising altitude. The catch sooned followed as he mumbled that there would be a charge for everything...including water. What? I just paid you plenty of money to warrant at least the opportunity to lick the salt off a peanut or two. This is because of the change in my pocket while passing through the detector isn't it?
No comments:
Post a Comment