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Bloody Marys on a Motherf***ing Plane

27 Jul 2009 (Mon)

The last time I blogged from a motherf*cking plane, it was a plane to Seattle. Oh, look at that, I’m blogging on another motherf*cking plane to Seattle! I’ll be honest: I don’t even really have anything specific to blog about; this is more for the novelty of harkening back to olden times, “olden” being “the last time I went to Seattle and decided that was good enough reason to blog.”

There are, sadly, no snakes on this motherf*cking plane. I know that most of my fellow passengers would disagree with my use of the word “sadly” in that sentence, but they’re mostly thinking of large, sneaky, deadly, digitally-rendered snakes. It’s entirely possible that if they if considered the idea of regular non-deadly snakes on this motherf*cking plane, maybe some of them wouldn’t be so averse to the idea.

You know what my fellow passengers are not averse to? Drinking before 10AM. More specifically, the guy in the seat next to me is not averse to ordering a Bloody Mary at 9:32 AM (which as most of you know is indeed before 10 AM). My inclination is mock the guy, but then again… why the hell shouldn’t you have a bloody Mary on a plane to Seattle at 9:32 AM? I mean, as long as your nametag does not read, “Captain”? Or hell, if it does, as long as that sort of thing helps you fly better? I don’t know. I’m not here to judge the personal demons of the guy flying the plane.

Oh no, here come more bloody Marys… The guy’s wife, who—for the sake of accuracy—was previously sitting between me and the guy, has switched places with another woman from elsewhere on the plane. From what I can gather, this new replacement woman and the aforementioned wife are sisters, and their mother is sitting in a different section, and they’re all doing some kind of vacation thing together. So there may be additional bloody Mary drinkers I don’t know about. I believe their vacation plan is built on a foundation of bloody Mary consumption. (The shitty airline radio station just started playing “Blame it on the Alcohol,” which, in the midst of all this bloody Mary action, makes me think this is the Universe trying to apologize for being so craptacular to me as of late.)

Also, I’m fairly certain there is nothing that funny in the SkyMall catalog. At least, nothing that’s only funny when you turn the magazine sideways. Maybe these people drink bloody Marys all day and consider travel alarms clocks and hot dog warmers a unique brand of porn. Like I said, I’m not here to judge anyone’s personal demons.

…I’ve actually run out of things to ramble about, likely because I haven’t seen another round of bloody Marys and I’m drowning out these people’s conversation with shitty airline radio. So I’ll sign off for now, sit back, and maybe dream about what it’ll be like to see Frankie and JT live in person. That’s right, bitches: I took a trip to across the country primarily to see a soccer team. And for the record, none of you should be here to judge my personal demons, either.

~ r.

Ed. Note: What it was actually like to see Frankie and JT in person…. Well, you can’t really understand unless you’re a die-hard fan, and if you are, you already understand without my explaining it. So it’s a little pointless to describe here. Suffice it to say, I’m a lucky, lucky bastard. And I loves me Blues.

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