Somebody Lied...
Today was aiiight. Is. Whatever. It's not over yet so I really shouldn't be using the past tense.
Two students needed to be dropped off at the airport this morning so that's what I did. 10:30am I was off and running and I just got back. It's 3pm. Ridiculous.
Anyway, last night Bava and I went down to the Eastside and played some pool. He roundly kicked my ass and held the table pretty much all night. Good job. And fun was had by all. Then I borrowed season 4 of Smallville. I really never imagined I could be so turned on by television. Wow.
Ever wanted to know how to draw a stork? Well now you can.
So I'm standing in line with the japanese students at the n0rthwest counter at the airport and as we get closer and closer to the front of the line, I start to notice a trend. The service people behind the counter get more pissed off at the Asians who ask for help before they do something wrong than the Americans who basically break the machines and THEN ask for help. I found and currently find this ridiculous.
I watched as a woman tried to insert her passport into the slot where things are only supposed to come out. Essentially anally-raping the machine with her passport. Then she started yelling at it. It turned out that instead of inserting then removing (like the sign says) her frequent flyer card, she had inserted it and left it in. The machine had no clue what was happening and just kinda froze, waiting for her to take the damn piece of plastic out of the slot. The woman couldn't quite grasp the predicament and that's when the ass-raping of the machine began.
The woman behind the n0rthwest counter only arrived when the customer started breaking down into fitful sobs accentuated by profanity. I was shocked it wasn't the machine sobbing. With a motherly smile and the benevolent demeanor or a proctologist, the n0rthwest woman reached around, removed the card, the machine decided to work, and the customer thanked her over and over and over again. Again, it should have been the machine. With a flourish of the hand the customer service woman was on to help my two guys.
Hopefull that we would get the same or at least similar treatment, I smiled at the woman. She glared at me and my heart sank. The first student swiped his passport. It worked. The machine generated what is the service version of a smiley face: "Processing..."
It didn't ask him how many bags he had, it didn't say anything about anything. It just spat out his boarding pass and receipt. I kinda looked up and the n0rthwest woman looked directly at me with an unflinching glare. The kind of glare one reserves for wildebeasts who have become upity.
I kindly explained to the woman what happened and all she said was, "You didn't do it right, do it again." So I did it again. And again. And again.
Finally I got fed up with this and with a loud sigh, as if I was the pain in the ass there today, she snatched the passport out of my hand, asked for the other one, I gave it to her, and she did everything in 10 seconds.
I would reccount the security story, but I'm affraid that I'd never make it through a checkpoint again.
More later. If I feel like it.
--ENHANCINGYOURIDEAOFLOVESINCE1980--
Two students needed to be dropped off at the airport this morning so that's what I did. 10:30am I was off and running and I just got back. It's 3pm. Ridiculous.
Anyway, last night Bava and I went down to the Eastside and played some pool. He roundly kicked my ass and held the table pretty much all night. Good job. And fun was had by all. Then I borrowed season 4 of Smallville. I really never imagined I could be so turned on by television. Wow.
Ever wanted to know how to draw a stork? Well now you can.
So I'm standing in line with the japanese students at the n0rthwest counter at the airport and as we get closer and closer to the front of the line, I start to notice a trend. The service people behind the counter get more pissed off at the Asians who ask for help before they do something wrong than the Americans who basically break the machines and THEN ask for help. I found and currently find this ridiculous.
I watched as a woman tried to insert her passport into the slot where things are only supposed to come out. Essentially anally-raping the machine with her passport. Then she started yelling at it. It turned out that instead of inserting then removing (like the sign says) her frequent flyer card, she had inserted it and left it in. The machine had no clue what was happening and just kinda froze, waiting for her to take the damn piece of plastic out of the slot. The woman couldn't quite grasp the predicament and that's when the ass-raping of the machine began.
The woman behind the n0rthwest counter only arrived when the customer started breaking down into fitful sobs accentuated by profanity. I was shocked it wasn't the machine sobbing. With a motherly smile and the benevolent demeanor or a proctologist, the n0rthwest woman reached around, removed the card, the machine decided to work, and the customer thanked her over and over and over again. Again, it should have been the machine. With a flourish of the hand the customer service woman was on to help my two guys.
Hopefull that we would get the same or at least similar treatment, I smiled at the woman. She glared at me and my heart sank. The first student swiped his passport. It worked. The machine generated what is the service version of a smiley face: "Processing..."
It didn't ask him how many bags he had, it didn't say anything about anything. It just spat out his boarding pass and receipt. I kinda looked up and the n0rthwest woman looked directly at me with an unflinching glare. The kind of glare one reserves for wildebeasts who have become upity.
I kindly explained to the woman what happened and all she said was, "You didn't do it right, do it again." So I did it again. And again. And again.
Finally I got fed up with this and with a loud sigh, as if I was the pain in the ass there today, she snatched the passport out of my hand, asked for the other one, I gave it to her, and she did everything in 10 seconds.
I would reccount the security story, but I'm affraid that I'd never make it through a checkpoint again.
More later. If I feel like it.
--ENHANCINGYOURIDEAOFLOVESINCE1980--
