The Air-ess of Continental

I was a traveling fool last week. A fool I tell you!

I went to Florida for a meeting and had the pleasure of flying Continental, the last remaining airline to provide free turkey sandwiches to its passengers. Continental also decided to show a movie on my 3 hour flight, which could have been a good thing. The movie was Fool's Gold with Matthew McConaughey and Kate Hudson. I hate Matteo, and find him neither attractive nor talented, but the terrible accents of Donald Sutherland (British) and Malcolm Jamaal Warner (Jamaican) were entertaining enough to keep me tuned in.

While traveling, I noticed that there are a few things that I will do on a plane that I won't do anywhere else.

1. Drink Mott's Tomato Juice
2. Eat Peanuts
3. Watch Everybody Hates Chris
4. Spread cuticle cream all over my hands
5. Hate babies

My flight down to Florida was uneventful, but my flight home to Newark airport was full of zest.
As I waited for my flight to board at the airport Chili's, I met several people who had been stranded at the airport all day due to storms in the Northeast. These people were cranky and drunk. One woman was wasted and mistook the Chili's for a swingers bar.

I was sitting between the Swinger and her prey - a middle-aged man with long, gray hair wearing a suit that made him look like a pilot. His name was Mr. Robertson.
The woman was a Florida native and was being dragged to a wedding in Syracuse by her husband / boyfriend (who was not at the bar). She was talking over me, trying to drunkenly seduce Mr. Robertson, and literally asked, "Is there a Mrs. Robertson?"

I never thought people actually used lines like this. But it seemed to work.

Mr. Robertson got up from the bar, walked over to the Swinger and said, "Yes, she's home right now in CT. And actually there have been many Mrs. Robertsons..."

The pair left the bar together.

But the hot drunken action at the airport Chili's did not end there!

Two guys and a girl (and a pizza place) sidled up next to me to order a round of shots and a roadie to take to their gate. They were coming off the end of a vacation and heading back home to Jersey. They kept talking about how different things are "up north" as they reached all around me to pass drinks past my grill.

One guy apologized for invading my personal space, saying that he has no manners because he is from "up north." Um, you are in South Florida. Everyone in this part of the state is from "up north." You are just an ass.

When I boarded the plane, I was sitting behind two guys I missed at the Chili's. They were clearly there before boarding because they were drunk and rowdy. They were both gigantic and sounded like they were fresh off the set of the Sopranos. The guy in front of me was wearing a diamond bracelet and Steelers sweatpants that ended in a tight elastic band around the ankle. His buddy was wearing shorts to accentuate a calf the size of my torso with a giant wizard tattoo. The pair hit on every flight attendant on the plane and ordered several mini bottles of Scotch.

Halfway through the flight, the Wizard went to the back row of the plane to lay across a row of seats. His legs hung out into the aisle, blocking the bathroom. Apparently, the mob has a holding over the bathroom on Continental flight 400. Don’t Stop Believin.

When I landed, my bag was the first one out of the baggage carousel. I’d like to think it’s karmas way of repaying me for letting a couple sit together on the plane. But I have a sneaking suspicion that my bags arrived first because I was the least douchey person on my entire flight.