well that was fun.
12 hour flight to doha, qatar and i'm in the middle seat between a bangladeshi, and wisconsin guy who you see on tv lifting cars and pulling airplanes, dragging kegs through water.
the row in front of me is the loudest indian family of 4. to our left, french babies they don't say a peep, but it seems indian mommy and daddy are deaf, as they don't even flinch when their 3 year old screeches at the top of his lungs CLOOOOUUUUDDDDDSSSS!!!!!!!!!! and didn't stop for 8. fucking. hours.
before boarding they gave us our little care package - eye mask, toothbrush, super silky slippers, ear plugs (the package reads "can't hear!"), and the home depot 3M anti-swine flu mask. i wore the thing for two seconds before nearly passing out from breathing my own teacher's whiskey breath. i somehow ordered a vegan meal, which is actyally plenty times worse than the actual vegetarian food they were serving, a delicious korma. i got rice and super crazy spicy vegetables that cut off my breath. i poured what i thought was salad dressing on my lentils and it was some even more spicy hot sauce. finished off the meal with those little indian spices that taste like wetnap.
they were so stingy with their water i felt like i was actually in the qatar desert, i was having hallucinations of crawling along licking the dirt and hoping for moisture. i kept hitting the call button and the lady with the surgical mask would come, roll her eyes and pour me no more than a shot glass of water. i would knock it back, hold it out for more, but she sternly drove her cart back in a way that looked like she was preparing to enter an operating room to remove someone's organs. at one point i couldn't take it anymore i had to get some water and bohemith guy is totally passed out, i don't want to wake him. so i pull the foolproof step over him on the armrest thing. it's never not worked, as i'm agile as an oryx in this maneuver! but i didn't expect the super silky socks to to be so slippery on an ergonomically curved armrest. i quickly lose my balance and go flying over the seats face first into a big fat indian man's belly, two rows back. i scare the bejeezus out of him and as i use his enormous man boobs to pull myself up, i taste blood coming from my nose, this is a mess. i race back to the bathroom and try to pull myself together, humiliated. i manage to sneak a few shots of water and head back to my seat and everyone has fallen back asleep, seems to have forgotten. big guy still passed out, kids are still screaming, did that really happen? only 8 hours to go.
my nose is a puffy shade of blue, and i think i deserve the qatar gold club lounge. i took a shower, i'm going to drink vodka, eat falafel balls and watch the simpsons with some army dudes to pass the 6 hours before my next leg. the airport is all head coverings and shieks, i saw a woman in a burka glaring as my exposed elbow, i briefly considered buying an astin martin at duty free, but i think i'll wait for the way back.
I wanna see a picture of your nose before the blue hue is gone! And don't knock 'em: man boobs rule! Remember Meatloaf in Fight Club?
Si tu avais gardé ton masque cela aurait amorti le choc sur ton pif.
manboobs are out.
et, mon pif est trop grand pour ces masques...ce que j'ai herite de ma mere!
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