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Does this make me a Jet-Sitter?

Posted by todd Mon, 24 Jul 2006 03:32:00 GMT

This is the first in an….. at least one part series about business travel. There may be more unless I: A) Start dating someone causing a funny story. B) Get off my ass and try to make a video blog (I have very fancy new video software)… or C) Do nothing, because I’m a slack bastard.


Jet-setting.

Sitting here, stranded, on the airport runway in Seattle it’s hard to imagine a more extravagant lifestyle than that of a frequent business traveler… What, with the “sexy stews”, and the wild hotel parties, it’s truly a wonder any of you settle down. The entire world should be floating around having mile-high orgies!!!

Unfortunately, the only stew here is the fat gay guy who really thinks I’m going to turn off my laptop just in case we actually get the clearance to take off.

Fool me once, shame on you.. Fool me twice… fuck you fat guy I’m not listening.

I admit, there is a stewardess, but she looks like she has been hanging out in a dual-action tanning bed/dehydrator. Austin Powers is going to be really upset.

At least I’m in first class, so they are plying me with red wine. Had they chosen scotch, I’d probably be arrested by now, or screwing the human hacky sack woman in one of her wrinkles….. I just barfed a little bit.

Either way… extravagant… that’s just the kind of guy I am.

Traveling isn’t always that glorious though. This morning, or should I say last night, I woke up at 4AM to get to the San Diego airport. Nothing good happens at 4AM unless it involves tequila and twins…or one girl and extra tequila… same thing really. This time, I was zero for two.. Or four, or… you get the picture.

You can’t really blame the airlines; they have a lot of moving parts and there are bound to be hiccups. Sometimes forget little things like dotting their I’s, or crossing their T’s, or THE FUCKING AIRPLANE. This is why they always offer you a shot for a dollar more.

So there I was, awake before I often go to bed, when they announce that oops… in the confusion it must have gotten lost in the couch cushion or something because there WAS NO PLANE and cancelled the flight.

Several rebookings later, I made my meeting in Seattle and turned around to come home...or apparently to drink wine and eat airplane food.

The Fat Gay Steward just gave me a bowl of hot nuts. That's how I'm going to explain flying from now on.