Frenchy's Rant

Here is an extremely brave and well thought out comment to my last post about flying business douches, posted exactly as I received it. The poster was so brave, he even posted it anonymously!

Standing around waiting at baggage claim, Jason – one of the original Faithful Fifteen said, “Damn, Frenchy, being on the same flight as you, I thought I was going to witness firsthand one of your travel rants.”

“Oh? You must’ve missed it then, because I’ve got one. The guy behind me…”

Before I could even launch into the story, some other guy waiting for his luggage cut me off. “I saw that! The guy that tapped you on the shoulder! What the hell was that about anyway?”

“As we took off, I was just about asleep, so I put my seat back. All of a sudden, the asshat business-douche in the seat behind me, you know, the kind of self-important twat that keeps his Bluetooth earpiece in his ear at all times in case ‘the office’ needs his extremely valuable input on something vital like should we serve chocolate covered or powdered donuts at the meeting, reaches up and taps me on the shoulder.”

“Excuse me, sir?” the little shit whined, waking me up. “Could you put your seat back up until they give us all permission to put our seats back?”

“Give us permission to what?” Hearing this, the guy next to me rolled his eyes and immediately put his seat all the way back too. Mind you, at this point nearly every seat around me is reclined. The Bluettoothed fool tapped me again. Now fully awake and fully pissed off, I turned around to the douchebag and said the first thing that came to my mind.

“Blow me!”

And so, to all the self-important Black and Blueberry toting frequent-flying business-douches on airplanes all over the world, I give you ALL this heartfelt G-F-Y award:

After almost three years of blogging, it’s finally happened!

Someone from another blog, a REAL one, (or at least a real LOOKING one) has linked to my little rant!

Hey Kelly, thanks for the link… but did you click on my AdNonSense Ads?

As always, the bus pulled in to the hotel in Bakersfield late Monday night. The routine, perfected after countless thousand repetitions, is almost automatic. As the rhythm of the bus downshifts from full speed travel to a gently vibrating generator, I wake up on cue. Eyes half open, the procedure plays out once again. Find shoes, find luggage, find room key, find room, find bed, fall asleep. Unless the routine is broken, most nights the transition from bunk to bed is seamless, a few more precious hours of sleep the only reward before getting up and doing it all over again.

Routine killers range from the simple – such as a room key card that doesn’t open the hotel room door – to the mildly annoying – for example, needing a treasure map to find your room, conveniently hidden in a building a half mile away – to the downright bizarre – like a water pipe exploding in the ceiling in the middle of the night, covering the room and it’s sleeping occupant with cold (and hopefully non-toilet flush) water.

None of that happened on Monday night, so why was I suddenly awake at 2 AM? I wasn’t even sure myself, so I lay there for a minute or two, trying to figure it out.

Then I heard something. Coming from the room next door. What the? Sounded like someone was in trouble. The noise must have woken me up.

I heard it again. A woman. Louder this time.

A fight? Did someone need help? I wasn’t sure, so I listened a little closer.

It got louder, then it became clear to me. Something was happening next door, but it sure wasn’t fighting… And it went on, and on, and on, and on… and on some more. For the next hour my routine was… YES! YES! OH GOD YES! broken by… YEEEEESSSSS!!! the insensitive couple… YEEEAAA BABY! don’tstopDON’TSTOPDON’TSTOP!! in room 325.

For this unique and unusual yet still annoying disruption to the routine, I’d normally give out a GFY award, but the couple next door already pretty much covered it.