- Riding "bitch" sucks. You thought it was bad sitting in the middle seat of a car, but the middle seat of an airplane (in coach) is much worse by far. Why is it that the people on either side of you, Mr. Aisle and Mr. Window, whom each have an armrest to themselves, feel the need to jab their elbows into you, leaving you with not one, not two, but ZERO armrests for the duration of the flight? Selfish bastards. Here's a tip: Raise up your arms, stick out your elbows and rest them on TOP of Mr. Aisle's and Mr. Window's arms. They'll move faster than you think. Hey, just because the rest of the general population is obsessed with personal space doesn't mean you have to be. Take advantage and get TWO comfy armrests.
- Bitch, get your hand off my fan! No, thank you, old mouthy woman...I do not need nor desire you to fiddle with my booklight or my fan. I am quite capable of handling both on my own. Guess what else? I really have no desire to chit chat with you about 1) your grandkids, 2) the weather, 3) that bitchy flight attendant or 4) the status of my love life. Now step, off grandmama, or I'm stealing your peanuts.
- Get off your "crackberry", you're not as VIP as you think. Damn the man that invented a PDA, cellphone and portable PC all-in-one. I hate you. I loathe you. I dream about your death as much as I dream about dancing on Dr. Atkins' grave with a bunch of baguettes in my arms. You are the reason people don't watch where they're walking, have diminished social skills, and yak incessantly about NOTHING while in the airport security line, prompting yours truly to go for a swift kick to the arse and send said irritant flying through the terminal. Guess what? The rest of us don't give a crap about the TPS report, your boss' wife's cleavage, or the case of the clap you got from the cheap downtown hooker. Shut that thing off before I do it for you.
- Seriously, who let you reproduce? It's not the kids that annoy me, though they come pretty damn close. It's you, the parent, that sits behind the newspaper or smiles that retarded smile, while your child(ren) raises holy hell in the middle of a crowded airport, that makes me want to scream. Wow, it is incredibly irritating that your kid is kicking my seat from behind every five seconds. And yes, it would be considerate of you to control said kid from doing so. But I can't bother you to do that...you've got three other rugrats in your arms to take care of. Ever thought of spacing them out a bit? How about using some birth control? I bet you regret that all those margaritas and romantic nights now, don't ya, you oversexed pimple on the butt of humanity?!? Get out of my way!
- These Egyptian cotton sheets had better have a thread count of 3000-plus, or your ass is mine! Traveling so much makes you a really big hotel snob. I used to tease my dad about only staying in nice places when out of town, but now I understand. I am not in college anymore, and I have seen my last hostel. Period. It's the little things that make the difference between me doing my job well at the client site and falling asleep on my spreadsheet. I HAVE TO have a hotel with a concierge level, a free gym, in-room internet and a bathtub/shower combo. Don't put me by the ice machine or the elevator. Don't put me on a low floor where I can hear street traffic. I also need a personal pillow fluffer. Ok, kidding about the pillow fluffer, but not everything else. And, oh yea, if I don't get "points" (Marriott Rewards, Starwood Preferred Guest, etc.), I'm not staying.
- I'm not paying that bill! You'd be surprised how often you get away without paying for something if you were dissatisfied with the service, but that's not what I'm talking about. One of my project managers took us out to dinner, and when the bill came, he flipped it over and said casually, "I'm not paying that." Everyone got nervous and looked at each other, thinking, "I shouldn't have ordered that appetizer and dessert! I can't pay the bill either! My baby mama gave me bad credit!" The project manager then smiled mischievously. "You guys better order more wine or something. That bill is way too low for me to pay!" Gotta love living on an expense account...except for the excessive weight gain...
- Who do you love more? Being in your homebase only 2-3 days per week will make you savor your free time. You can't be the social butterfly you normally are and hang out with the people you would normally see all week. So what's a girl to do? PRIORITIZE! That's right, choose. Come on, admit it. You know you like some people better than others. Now you gotta be honest about it. This should also keep your friends on their toes. Sally blew you off for happy hour last week? See if that bitch gets a phone call in the next six months! Boyfriend wants to have a guys' night when you're home? Kick his ass to the curb; he had 4-5 days to be led around the world by his testosterone-fueled buddies. Dammit, I want my quality time!
- Habib? Joe? Or Ali? If you take a cab or car service to and from the airport, just accept it: once in a while, your driver is going to want to make idle chit chat. You may be tired, it may be 5:30AM, but it doesn't matter: He's got stuff on his mind, and you're just the empty vessel to be filled. From "I love USA" to "All women are golddiggers"(hello, you're driving one!) to "Why you no vote for Bush?", drivers are some of the most chatty cathy's I have ever or will ever met...and talking to them was way more fun when you were drunk in college and on the way home from a bar.
All in all, I can't complain too much. I'm gainfully employed, making ends meet and doing really interesting work. But this is a fun topic, so as the weeks and months pass, I might be adding more. I'll keep ya posted, bitches!
