kybearfuzz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kybearfuzz) wrote2003-09-05 10:33 pm
kybearfuzz) wrote2003-09-05 10:33 pm
Arrival in Italy
Prepare for a rant! And it's not going to be pretty.
First, the flight is delayed by an hour and a half. Not so bad, but when I put forth so much energy to get to the damned airport early, it just makes the wait that much longer. So after sitting in the airport lounges and eating junk food for lunch because the restaurants are too crowded, we finally get on the plane. And we sit there. For a lot longer.
Now I realize that the weather is to blame and all the flights are late, so I resign myself to sit and relax because there is very little I can do. No need to fuss. Well I sit next to this English turkey and his kid. His kid is asking every question in the world and a few new ones that Trivial Pursuit never even came close to considering. Again, just sit quietly, read the book and hope it goes away.
They finally serve a snack, which is exactly what it is, a snack. Not a meal. It is only a two hour flight. The turkey next to me decides that this is not enough for the Brit Brat and complains to the poor attendant that this was a pitful meal for all the waiting around he and his kid had to do. As though, the rest of us were not waiting, but just getting there at the last minute. He complains that his kid had only a "light breakfast," that it was cruel as we could smell the food served in business class, and that he was very disappointed in Air Italia.
Okay, now I have been a waiter in college and yelling at a server does no good because he or she had very little to do with your meal being cold or incorrect usually. This to me rings of the same scenario. First of all, as a parent, HE should have made sure Junior had a decent breakfast before they left! Second, I am not sure how often Turkey Man flies, but in all of my flights under 4 hours, it is a blasted snack, not a meal. Third, you cannot blame the attendant for the weather, the delay, the cost of eggs in China, and the fact that he was not sitting in business class to get the hot meal. Ugh! That pretentious accent on top of that bloated complaining made me want to go ballistic. Still, I held my ground, kept my mouth shut and tried to ignore him.
That is when the Brat got cute and farted. A real raunchy one. Apparently, Junior had more to eat than his pop realized. This is like being trapped in a car with your mean brother doing the same with the windows rolled up. Then Turkey decided to tell son that it was not a nice thing to do and then began to fan it with a newspaper, sharing the odor with all of the rest of us. How polite of him! Oh, this flight could not have ended fast enough.
The hillbilly in me wanted to eat a burrito with peppers, place my @$$ right up to the Brit Brat's face and POWDERBURN HIM!!!! Instead, I should have just recommended the Flintstone's Chewable Bean-O tablets.
We finally got off the plane, away from the Flatulent Kid and his annoying father, and was 2 hours late. My ride was very nice about it. He is the President of the company I am inspecting this week. He and I went out for a real Italian dinner with wine and it was delicious. Still, I am raving about the trip only in my mind as I do not want this guy to think I am nuts.
Okay, now I am tired and a bit drunk on wine (not used to drinking wine), so I'm off to get some sleep and hopefully have a better day tomorrow seeing Milan for the first time. Better moods await, I'm sure.
First, the flight is delayed by an hour and a half. Not so bad, but when I put forth so much energy to get to the damned airport early, it just makes the wait that much longer. So after sitting in the airport lounges and eating junk food for lunch because the restaurants are too crowded, we finally get on the plane. And we sit there. For a lot longer.
Now I realize that the weather is to blame and all the flights are late, so I resign myself to sit and relax because there is very little I can do. No need to fuss. Well I sit next to this English turkey and his kid. His kid is asking every question in the world and a few new ones that Trivial Pursuit never even came close to considering. Again, just sit quietly, read the book and hope it goes away.
They finally serve a snack, which is exactly what it is, a snack. Not a meal. It is only a two hour flight. The turkey next to me decides that this is not enough for the Brit Brat and complains to the poor attendant that this was a pitful meal for all the waiting around he and his kid had to do. As though, the rest of us were not waiting, but just getting there at the last minute. He complains that his kid had only a "light breakfast," that it was cruel as we could smell the food served in business class, and that he was very disappointed in Air Italia.
Okay, now I have been a waiter in college and yelling at a server does no good because he or she had very little to do with your meal being cold or incorrect usually. This to me rings of the same scenario. First of all, as a parent, HE should have made sure Junior had a decent breakfast before they left! Second, I am not sure how often Turkey Man flies, but in all of my flights under 4 hours, it is a blasted snack, not a meal. Third, you cannot blame the attendant for the weather, the delay, the cost of eggs in China, and the fact that he was not sitting in business class to get the hot meal. Ugh! That pretentious accent on top of that bloated complaining made me want to go ballistic. Still, I held my ground, kept my mouth shut and tried to ignore him.
That is when the Brat got cute and farted. A real raunchy one. Apparently, Junior had more to eat than his pop realized. This is like being trapped in a car with your mean brother doing the same with the windows rolled up. Then Turkey decided to tell son that it was not a nice thing to do and then began to fan it with a newspaper, sharing the odor with all of the rest of us. How polite of him! Oh, this flight could not have ended fast enough.
The hillbilly in me wanted to eat a burrito with peppers, place my @$$ right up to the Brit Brat's face and POWDERBURN HIM!!!! Instead, I should have just recommended the Flintstone's Chewable Bean-O tablets.
We finally got off the plane, away from the Flatulent Kid and his annoying father, and was 2 hours late. My ride was very nice about it. He is the President of the company I am inspecting this week. He and I went out for a real Italian dinner with wine and it was delicious. Still, I am raving about the trip only in my mind as I do not want this guy to think I am nuts.
Okay, now I am tired and a bit drunk on wine (not used to drinking wine), so I'm off to get some sleep and hopefully have a better day tomorrow seeing Milan for the first time. Better moods await, I'm sure.