A Short (long)Travel Story

Part 1. I’m writing this last Friday, sitting in the Mobile Regional Airport waiting to fly to Atlanta. The week has been interesting. On the first day I walked right into a clear glass door, but there was no lasting trauma for me or the door, fortunately. It hurt like fuck for about five minutes but my nose stayed intact. It was also quite annoying that the beach was closed for the first three days, although granted there were very rough seas and treacherous rips, which are responsible for 95 % of all the drownings down here. It seemed like a pain in the ass at the time, but people are dumb, and there are people who know this who patrol the beach looking out for them. They didn’t seem like assholes either. I did eventually get to go for a swim in the ocean for the first time in four and a half years, which was the entire reason I went there in the first place. I felt a lot better for it. Nevertheless, and all things considered, I’m not sorry I went. Nothing’s perfect. If the truth be known, it’s the airport “security theater” that I hate. Let’s call it an unnecessary evil, because that fuckery certainly isn’t necessary at all the way those monkeys run it. Moving right along… Gulf shores is an interesting place, but you should go there and find out for yourself, this is not a tourist blog. This is more of a “I hate everyone and everything” journal which is why I’m stuck here in Mobile right now, with not even the Memphis Blues to deal with.

Mobile, Alabama before the spectacularly ugly buildings went up.

Oh great, now there’s a thunderstorm coming in. Perfect. Hopefully, the plane won’t get hurled out of the sky. I’m sure we’ll be fine though. Anything to get away from the rowdy children who have been driving everyone at this gate insane for the last hour, at least.

We eventually get out of there in the rain, but now we’re stuck in Atlanta with a delayed flight which is already two hours late leaving. Airlines have a thing now, whereby because they oversell every flight, so at some point they start asking for “volunteers” to give up their seats. They offer a cash incentive, the next available flight, and tonight, a hotel room. This flight has an auction for people to give up their seats. It started at $400 cash, plus a hotel room, plus the next flight out in the morning. They needed three or four volunteers, and so they evidently got one or two in the initial offering. Now, because they still need two more extra seats the cash incentive has been steadily going up. It eventually got up to $1200 cash plus the hotel and flight. Not a bad days work if you aren’t in a hurry to get to where you’re going. If you’d taken the $400, you’d probably feel ripped off, but that’s the way it is.

I might have been tempted by $1200, but I didn’t find out about it until after it had happened. I had wandered off from the gate, to find a place to sit down somewhere else. I probably wouldn’t have given up my seat. Maybe for 2 grand? Fucked if I know. Throw in a hooker and some blow, you’ve got a deal…I’m kidding. So anyway, we’re still stuck at this overcrowded gate in Atlanta.

If Star Wars had an airport it would be Atlanta. It’s a good approximation of hell. It’s a freak show. I’ve never seen greater collection of misfits, misshapen people, oddly dressed weirdos and degenerates in my life. If several 500 lb Daisy Cutter bombs obliterated this place it would be a plus for humanity in my opinion. I realize this sounds harsh, and I don’t know these people, but looking at most of them, I don’t want to know them. Where did all these freaks come from? They look as if they had crawled out from under a rock. Several rocks, in fact. A subterranean cave where idiots dwell. As I said before, a closer approximation of hell you’d be hard pressed to find. The moron next to me, in between fits of coughing, has a phone with annoying notification sounds. Everybody has! That’s the main annoyance here. The sounds. Whispers and snatches of conversation, phones pinging and ringing, children barking like dogs, chimpanzees or miniature demons, I’m not sure. They take turns in bellowing and shrieking. There’s one kid opposite me who talks into a bent straw. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he keeps repeating over and over in a voice a full 2 octaves below his normal 9 year old kid tone. It sounds like Satan. Don’t get me started on the phone gaming apps…

That’s enough today. Tomorrow, I’ll share my thoughts and experiences dealing with the very wonderful, necessary, and helpful TSA. I’ll also explain the reason why everyone has to take off their shoes while going through security. I promise you’re not going to like what you hear.