Fair Warning…

My latest escapade too me to the Big Easy. Yes, I swear I do work! Hard!

The trip itself was rather lack-luster with full day meetings and group events scheduled after work hours to keep the group out of trouble, I suppose. So fast forward a few days to the return trip.

If any of you have visited MSY (Louis Armstrong International Airport), and have been lucky enough to fly USAir, you are privy to the fact of spaciousness in terminal B. There are literally jazzercise sized classrooms of space all around with very few seats.

Back to the story! OK, so in this vast openness, I could see and hear nearly everyone intended on boarding the 2:20 to CLT. People watching is becoming a subconscious hobby… Though I was not ease dropping, I could plainly hear the conversation of one would-be passenger most of all as I was seated near the boarding door.  He managed to get out the fact of a medical condition which causes uncontrollable outburst of potential vulgarity. Yes ladies and gents, turrets. I applaud his action as a heads up to the staff and crew as I am sure this is difficult to deal with. However it did get funny but not until later.

***Of note – I am not making fun of the person or the condition, merely the situation!!!!

So the process of boarding the flight begins. The gentleman again, provides insight as to his condition to the stewardess and the captain. He takes a seat across from me and again delivers his spiel, this time adding the blurb, “But nothing normally happens.” At this point, for the sake of the story, we shall dub him Mr B.

Still, I’m not making fun!

The normal preflight dissertation of safety, no smoking, and how to work a seat belt begins and Mr B. cranks up, dropping “Bitch” , “Whore”, “Stupid ass”, and a variety of other derogatory terms, apologizing once he finished his rant and regained his composure. No one seemed to pay him any attention since we had all been warned. The stewardess finished up and the flight process resumed with a take off. At this point, I thought we were in the clear.

Well of course, this flight had one of those really talky-talky Captains who likes to narrate points of interest as you fly by at 500 miles an hour at 30 some thousand feet above… I’m not sure what part of the state of AL it was that set it all off, but shortly after our Captain Tour Guide finished an announcement, Mr B. revs up.

In a mumbly, groiny voice  – “Bomb! Bomb! I have a bomb!”

Get the Mr B. draw now?

This continues for a few minutes with each exclamation getting louder and louder and the surrounding passengers getting more and more nervous. Again he apologizes to the masses but this time goes right back to it.

“Bomb! Bomb! I have a bomb!”

Now he was drawing a crowd of spectators. Louder and louder still, “Bomb! Bomb! I have a bomb!”

Finally after several uneasy moments and somewhat attacking commentary from other passengers, Mr B. stood up and did the full police SPREAD ‘EM stance with his arms and legs fully gapped. He walked from seat 8C to the front of the plane where the stewardess was seated and broke into apologetic remorse denying his possession of a destructive device.

Not enough to do this duck-like stroll through the plane one way, but he does the same walk back to his seat, pleading to every passenger all the way.

By this time, I was pretending to be asleep as to not be drawn in more… I fake slept the remainder of the flight and exited post-haste once we landed.

By far one of the most entertaining flights I have ever been on! (Even while fake sleeping!)

 

Super!

On one of latest trips,  I headed to the sunshine state.  More specifically to the tourism sespool that is Orlando.  Is anyone familiar with any portion of this city beyond that of movie magic and giant, yet overly friendly, rodents?  Perfect!  Then maybe you have heard of the OBT??  I will let laughter of the expectant turn come to an end before I continue… 
For those of you without the knowledge or experience of, I will explain: This is the local slang for a major highways, Orange Blossom Trail. This road is the pure intent of the city to control it’s population of whitetrash into as small a space as possible.  Next time you are traveling with the family and you have a need or desire for liquor,  illegal substances, a hotel paid for by the hour along with the ‘company of another’,  adult novelties,  or to fill your void for a good mugging,  head on down! It’s centrally located and only minutes away from most destinations!  Why was I here, you ask? Clearly, to avoid the true hell of Central Florida; I-4,  of course! Plus, it’s like free, guaranteed entertainment!
This time was certainly not a disappointment.  As soon as I turned onto the OBT,  I saw him. Was it a celebrity?  A bird?  A plane? Nope!  But rather a mid 30s guy in sweat pants, a torn tshirt, and a makeshift cape made from an old and stained bedsheet! He had no mask,  as aninimity was not his concern. 
I was drawn in like a magnet; going slower than the speed limit in hopes of seeing this caped crusader do something incredible.  Not only was he aptly dressed for a day of crime fighting but was also holding his left hand out infront of himself as if to be flying.  He pedestrianed in and out of oncoming sidewalk citizens with the precision of a surgeon; his striped,  dirty cape trailing behind in the breeze he had created. After literally a mile of walk-flying,  he halted at a corner crosswalk and cupped his ear.  Luckily I was stopped at this same intersection for a great observation.  Had he heard the call of a damsel  in distress?  The screeching of alarms?  Who knows!  He sprinted down the side street,  left arm out ahead of him,  leading the way.  As I had known I was in the presence of greatness,  my only regret was not getting a picture to share with the world – perhaps our paths will cross again… Or maybe I was just witness to a once in a lifetime experience of the superior humanity?

Traveling, ironically on a week when I’m not…

JJ finally talked me into keeping track of my adventures across the US via the blogoplosion.  Soooooo, now I’m trendy!
To bellyflop on in,  I want to explain the URL listed.  I have been traveling with my job for roughly 2 and a half years now.  In that time I’ve been to more than 150 cities in 32 states, driven a vass aray of fine automobiles,  become accustomed to having a clean room everyday,  and developed an unhealthy obsession with free booze and peanut packets… Side note: Ever notice that you can never find those same snacks offered aboard an airliner when you are off of said airliner?
During these travels,  it was suggested that some sort of keepsake be acquired as a token of tourism and something my son could one day gloat with at show and tell.  Aside from the snowglobes (which oddly are sold at EVERY airport gift store but aren’t allowed through security) or the “My dad went to blah blah and all he brought me was the crappy shirt” shirts,  postcards made perfect sense.  Not only could he ‘see the sights’ but I could write a recap of my trip as well and store them all conveniently in a photo-type notebook.  Brilliant?!? Yes,  I agree! 
So now I am that guy who runs off planes bee-lining for the gift shop, on a quest for that unrepresented skyline or researches the odd history of a city (thanks to Wikipedia); always out for a gem of awesomeness to add to the memoir. A much more difficult task than you may think…
You with me now? Picking up what I’m putting down? Good, you have rekindled my faith in public education!