I recently took 8 flights. That’s 8, as in: E-I-G-H-T. This time, I managed to make every connection. Thank you. Thank you very much.
Also, on every one of these flights, I wondered where all the people were going. Seriously! Why are all these people flying to Oregon the first week in December? Why are you leaving Victoria, British Columbia on a Friday? These questions plagued me.
Another mystery that plagues me is where everyone on the highway is going in the middle of the day. Doesn’t anyone work in a cubicle from 9 to 5 anymore? Where are they all headed?! Where?!? WHERE?!?!?!?
The good news is, on a plane, all you have to do is ask! Now, I’m not one of those socially inept people who traps someone and talks and talks and talks when my seat mate doesn’t want to. No way! I get it. I’m almost 50 years old and I appreciate people’s differences. Some people just don’t want to talk to an adorable woman who is incredibly curious about their lives. Those people are complete fucking losers.*
The good news for me is that most people enjoy talking about their lives and I can tell you this: the 300 pound man from Washington, D.C. was leaving Victoria on a Friday because he just got a new job at <can’t remember> and their North American headquarters is in Victoria. Cool!
The semi-retired British man was coming back from Vegas, where he was teaching <topic I can’t remember> because he’s a world expert on the subject. Interesting!
The handsome man flying to Oregon was going to visit his son, daughter-in-law and grandkids for the weekend. Ha ha. That was my dad, suckahs! I asked him so many questions about his life, I think that guy just wanted me to shut up.**