Sep 122008
 

But some of the single serving friends you meet can be cool. Getting off work, my friend Pete takes me to LAX around 6:30. I get to the Spirit airline check in counter around 7 or so. There is a small line, but no one at the counter. Chatting up the guy in front of me, I learn that the folks behind the counter, won’t be behind the counter until 7:45. So I hang out, chat. The guy I’m talking to is a geologist, which is kinda humerous since the day prior; at lunch, Pete, Kris, and I sorta made fun of geologist as the “easy” science akin to IT degrees vs folks with an actual computer science degree. He immediately points out the fat guy behind us and his rather numerous bags of luggage and refers to him as Dom Deluise. Oh I’m going to get along great with Mr geologist.

The Spirit air folks come in and start checking people in; it gets to my turn and I put my luggage onto the scale, 49 lbs…. glad I decided to take my weights out of that bag and just hand carry them. The weight limit is 50 lbs – I’m going to have to keep this in mind when I pack to return home. Mr Geologist discovers he’s on the same flight as I so we continue to hang out. We get to the terminal and sit and chat for a bit, he apparently has a master’s degree in geology too. He’s an ex-marine, and not the HOORAH, ate up, go marines go; type. Being ex-air force and fairly anti military myself, there is that level of understanding and connection amongst ex-military that is just there within most of my friends I have made that are or were soldiers.

We head over to the closest bar and sit down to get a drink and some food. While the service was slow because of a few lazy waitresses, we eventually get our drinks, bloody mary for Jessie the Geologist, and a black and tan for me. Should have just gotten a straight Guinness. We hang and make more single serving friends around us. The geologist pays for the meal, very cool of the guy. He enjoys my brand of humor as I make fun of everyone around us. We hang out and trade more war stories, and then over the loud speaker, out flight was announced.

We get to the terminal, and there is no plane. In short order, the plane arrives. A hottie or two walk by, and individually we take notice and comment. A fat blond chick comes around and sits down. She squeals in delight all of a sudden, and a pack of hispanic men appear. Geologist Jessie and I nod in acknowledgment, and I make the ubiquitous, oh she likes getting ganged up upon comment… Jessie is almost rolling around on the floor. Then we notice the mannerisms, attire, and general signals coming from the group… we change our minds about the fat blond, apparently, she’s a fag hag. I revise the comment, she the fifth wheel among a group of couples…..

Folks exit the plane and we start to board, the last few hours was fun, and that is the last I’ll probably see of Mr Geologist, one cannot break the rules around the single serving friends.

I line up and get aboard the plane. I get memories of flying southwest. The plane is crowded and all the overhead bins are taken up, so my camera case, regulator bag, and laptop bag are all stowed under the seat in front of me and where my feet rest. There is a strange smell of regurgitated ham in the air…. the lady in the seat before mine grabs the attention of the steward, and complains about the odd moist spot in her chair, he returns with a plastic bag, with a confused look, she lays the bag down defeated, and sits on it. What a change of moods from when I was hanging out earlier. My legs are cramped up as they cannot move freely, and the flight starts. I pass out for a few, and drift in and out of sleep as my knees are in uncomfortable agony from the lack of movement and inability to stretch them out. But at least I do get some sleep, albeit intermittently.

I’m sitting in the terminal at Ft Lauderdale/Miami international airport, with free wireless internet access, and the power cord to my laptop is in my checked baggage…. battery power is now 60%. I have two hours to go before my next flight, guess I’ll break out the book. Hopefully, I’ll have access to the internets when I get to Negril, if not, I’ll make sure I have my power cord when I get back to this terminal come Tuesday.

  2 Responses to “That flight sucked ass…”

  1. In case you check this before you land…

    Who’s picking you up from the airport and when? Did you need me to? Let me know (send email or call my cell).

  2. I’m sure you’ll let me know when you get back… how was the wedding and how was diving?

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