This wasn’t my flight, but it sure reminds me of some of my fellow passengers.
“My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks.
“As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and told us that ‘Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he’ll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super.’
“On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed this well-dressed and Middle Eastern-looking woman hadn’t moved a muscle. ‘Perhaps you didn’t hear me over those big brute engines but I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground.’
“She calmly turned her head and said, ‘In my country, I am called a Princess and I take orders from no one.’
“To which (I swear) the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat…’Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I’m called a Queen, so I outrank you. Tray-up, Bitch.'”
Monika and I have foolishly taken it upon ourselves to enrich the lives of the creatives in our agency. Unfortunately, their attitudes about everything lead to complaints about everything, including the brainstorming room set up for creatives to chill and lounge. We spent the entire Sunday shopping and outfitting, then dragging all that stuff downtown for them. I’m guessing one thank you, and that from one of the Karens.
POST NOTE: Indeed we got as many as four thank yous, the first being from Karen. Never again.
I am beginning to scare of my strange draw toward Hollywood movies. It’s perhaps that the QuickVid in the other building doesn’t offer stellar independent features. Or I just need my dose of sap. I was pleasantly surprised by The Guardian, though, and almost came to tears at the end! It’s worth seeing, if not just for the closing credits and one of the featurettes. Little is written about the Coast Guard. Worth seeing, even if Ashton Kutcher might annoy the piss out of you (as he does me).
With my dad in town, I didn’t want to miss Hubbard Street Dance Chicago. So I moved my Thursday to Friday and here I am — in not my usual seat. It’s nice to bounce around, but in the Terrace it’s nice to have front row. This isn’t stadium seating. The performance was spectacular, though! The music was a little strange for me. Starting off with Beethoven’s Leonore, then a newer composer Turnage, then Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring. The latter I was in love with and bought the album and placed it on my music page.