Trip To The OC, Part II
I threw some things into my backpack, including the Beck's that were in the fridge, and we got on the SuperShuttle.
It was still dark; I think it was an early fall trip. It was freakin' 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning people!! And I was drunk. And I think it's pretty safe to say that DD was drunk too.
If you've never taken a SuperShuttle to the airport, they stop and pick people up until the van is full and then, and only then, do they proceed to the airport. DD and I were picked up second. There was one man already in the van when we got in.
It was a continuation of the night before, with an hour or so nap, and DD and I were raring to go. We were just chatting away in the SuperShuttle. Laughing, talking, reeking. Whatever. DD loved to talk. Not only was she chatting me up, but she was also chatting up the driver and the other passenger.
It wasn't long before the passenger says to us, "Could you guys keep it down?!"
Well, of course we could.
NOT! We are drunk. And it is 5:00 a.m. And we have had barely any sleep. It is really still Friday Happy Hour to us. Hello!!!
But, we tried. We really did give it a valiant effort SuperShuttle passenger! So instead of BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. We lowered it to ssssp, ssssp, ssssp, ssssp. Ha haa haaa, ssssp, ssssp, ssssp, ssssp. Like SuperShuttle guy passenger could no longer hear us. Because we were whispering. Nor smell us! It was awesome. But, he didn't say anything else to us. Maybe he was waking up. Or, maybe our smell was waking him up. Or, maybe he just didn't give a flying fuck anymore. Because we were unstoppable.
We get to the airport. Dawn has broken. We are waiting to board our flight. DD and I, chatty as ever, board the plane. A hottie is in front of me as we are walking down the aisle and I may have made a comment about his nice tooshie. I really can't rember EXACTLY what I said. But, what I do remember is that he told us to "Please Be Quiet Because I Have A Hangover."
Oh, Puh-leese. GMAFB. I told him that my hangover had not even BEGUN to set in, so it sucks to be you, hot tooshie guy.
We finally get to our seats. So. Happy.
The Flight Attendant asks for our drink orders.
DD: I'll have a bloody mary, please.
FA: I'm sorry, but we won't be serving you today.
DD: When will you be serving me?
FA:
Me:
DD: (You need a picture here of her face, that I cannot even begin to put into words. But, she was pissed. Indeed.)
FA to passenger across the aisle: And what would you like to drink?
I had the good fortune to sit next to an Indian oncologist. He had the window seat, I was in the middle, and DD was on the aisle, fuming. But I didn't notice. I was too engrossed in my conversation with the oncologist. And drunk.
I had a great flight, not being served alcohol, chatting up the oncologist, talking about SCIENCE! Really, I know some science. The oncologist wants to marry me, I'm sure. He almost proposed, but then the crew announces that we are landing in John Wayne Airport, please take your seats and fasten your seat belts.
DD hasn't said much during the flight. When she was denied her bloody mary, she put on her dark sunglasses and shut the fuck up.
Just as the plane hits the ground, DD looks at me and says, "Give me one of those Beck's." Of course, I give her one of those Beck's, and the bottle opener I always have with me (because I always drink good beer, and you can't twist that cap off). (This is pre 9/11 people!)
As we're walking off the plane, the FA who denied DD her bloody mary is saying, "Buh Bye," and DD toasts her with her opened Beck's and says, "Cheers."
I am so happy to be off that plane. I cannot even tell you. I hate flying. Not because it scares me, but because I cannot afford first class. And flying just sucks all around.
We walk into the terminal and there is a coffee shop directly in front of us. We go to get some coffee. Like it's going to help anything. But, of course it does. Coffee helps everything.
We have our coffee and we are standing at the table because there are no seats in this "coffee shop." DD is facing the terminal, and I am facing her with my back to the terminal.
DD: Uh oh. Federales.
Me: What?
DD: Federales.
Me: Huh?
Federale: Can I see some ID?
Me: (pulling out my driver's licence)
Federale: Are you driving?
Me: Bwaaa haa haa. We never drive. We live in San Francisco.
DD: Well, we are behind the Orange Curtain now.
Federale:
Federale: We had a complaint that you were distrupting a flight.
Me:
DD:
Federale: You smell like a brewery.
DD: Well, if your going to start arresting people for smelling bad, maybe you should start outside.
Federale (turning red):
O.M.G. This guy was so pissed that he couln't arrest us it was scary, or hilarious, or, I just don't know. When I think back on it, why the fuck couldn't he arrest us? I'm sure he could have, but, obviously, he felt that he could not or did not have the authority.
Again, this was pre-9/11. I am sure if this scene was repeated today, DD and I would have been hauled off to the pokey, tout de suite.
But, as luck would have it we were young, a little worn, and not driving! The Federale told us to get on our way. As we left, we laughed heartily at ourselves, and at him. And his big brown cowboy hat.
It was still dark; I think it was an early fall trip. It was freakin' 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning people!! And I was drunk. And I think it's pretty safe to say that DD was drunk too.
If you've never taken a SuperShuttle to the airport, they stop and pick people up until the van is full and then, and only then, do they proceed to the airport. DD and I were picked up second. There was one man already in the van when we got in.
It was a continuation of the night before, with an hour or so nap, and DD and I were raring to go. We were just chatting away in the SuperShuttle. Laughing, talking, reeking. Whatever. DD loved to talk. Not only was she chatting me up, but she was also chatting up the driver and the other passenger.
It wasn't long before the passenger says to us, "Could you guys keep it down?!"
Well, of course we could.
NOT! We are drunk. And it is 5:00 a.m. And we have had barely any sleep. It is really still Friday Happy Hour to us. Hello!!!
But, we tried. We really did give it a valiant effort SuperShuttle passenger! So instead of BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. We lowered it to ssssp, ssssp, ssssp, ssssp. Ha haa haaa, ssssp, ssssp, ssssp, ssssp. Like SuperShuttle guy passenger could no longer hear us. Because we were whispering. Nor smell us! It was awesome. But, he didn't say anything else to us. Maybe he was waking up. Or, maybe our smell was waking him up. Or, maybe he just didn't give a flying fuck anymore. Because we were unstoppable.
We get to the airport. Dawn has broken. We are waiting to board our flight. DD and I, chatty as ever, board the plane. A hottie is in front of me as we are walking down the aisle and I may have made a comment about his nice tooshie. I really can't rember EXACTLY what I said. But, what I do remember is that he told us to "Please Be Quiet Because I Have A Hangover."
Oh, Puh-leese. GMAFB. I told him that my hangover had not even BEGUN to set in, so it sucks to be you, hot tooshie guy.
We finally get to our seats. So. Happy.
The Flight Attendant asks for our drink orders.
DD: I'll have a bloody mary, please.
FA: I'm sorry, but we won't be serving you today.
DD: When will you be serving me?
FA:
Me:
DD: (You need a picture here of her face, that I cannot even begin to put into words. But, she was pissed. Indeed.)
FA to passenger across the aisle: And what would you like to drink?
I had the good fortune to sit next to an Indian oncologist. He had the window seat, I was in the middle, and DD was on the aisle, fuming. But I didn't notice. I was too engrossed in my conversation with the oncologist. And drunk.
I had a great flight, not being served alcohol, chatting up the oncologist, talking about SCIENCE! Really, I know some science. The oncologist wants to marry me, I'm sure. He almost proposed, but then the crew announces that we are landing in John Wayne Airport, please take your seats and fasten your seat belts.
DD hasn't said much during the flight. When she was denied her bloody mary, she put on her dark sunglasses and shut the fuck up.
Just as the plane hits the ground, DD looks at me and says, "Give me one of those Beck's." Of course, I give her one of those Beck's, and the bottle opener I always have with me (because I always drink good beer, and you can't twist that cap off). (This is pre 9/11 people!)
As we're walking off the plane, the FA who denied DD her bloody mary is saying, "Buh Bye," and DD toasts her with her opened Beck's and says, "Cheers."
I am so happy to be off that plane. I cannot even tell you. I hate flying. Not because it scares me, but because I cannot afford first class. And flying just sucks all around.
We walk into the terminal and there is a coffee shop directly in front of us. We go to get some coffee. Like it's going to help anything. But, of course it does. Coffee helps everything.
We have our coffee and we are standing at the table because there are no seats in this "coffee shop." DD is facing the terminal, and I am facing her with my back to the terminal.
DD: Uh oh. Federales.
Me: What?
DD: Federales.
Me: Huh?
Federale: Can I see some ID?
Me: (pulling out my driver's licence)
Federale: Are you driving?
Me: Bwaaa haa haa. We never drive. We live in San Francisco.
DD: Well, we are behind the Orange Curtain now.
Federale:
Federale: We had a complaint that you were distrupting a flight.
Me:
DD:
Federale: You smell like a brewery.
DD: Well, if your going to start arresting people for smelling bad, maybe you should start outside.
Federale (turning red):
O.M.G. This guy was so pissed that he couln't arrest us it was scary, or hilarious, or, I just don't know. When I think back on it, why the fuck couldn't he arrest us? I'm sure he could have, but, obviously, he felt that he could not or did not have the authority.
Again, this was pre-9/11. I am sure if this scene was repeated today, DD and I would have been hauled off to the pokey, tout de suite.
But, as luck would have it we were young, a little worn, and not driving! The Federale told us to get on our way. As we left, we laughed heartily at ourselves, and at him. And his big brown cowboy hat.
posted by nottotaled at 11:13 PM
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