I've just had an amazing two weeks in France, full of relaxing and a few days of partying. And as you can imagine, I am less than excited to be back in the office. So I thought I'd take a quick moment to vent some of my frustrations from my journey between Paris and Sydney:
1) The guy two seats away from me between London and Sydney -- I realise it's somewhat redundant (at least on this blog) to say that I am a big fan of drinking, however I question the benefits of drinking half a liter of scotch while having to remain seated for some 24 hours. If nothing else, please at least don't look confused when I refuse to respond to whatever inane rambling you directed my way in Singapore. I just felt really sorry for the girl who had to sit right next to you. You are disgusting.
2) Woman at the luggage carousel in Sydney -- Holy crap. I know that it's unfortunate that for whatever reason all luggage only comes in three colours, and that this makes for a lot of uncertainty and dashed hopes when collecting your luggage at the end of a flight. However, I don't think it's really necessary for you to pull off EVERY SINGLE BLACK SUITCASE that comes around, knocking innocent bystanders aside, and then having to put the suitcase back on. Probably the most aggravating was when your suitcase finally did arrive, and it was GRAY, not black. And wasn't even the same shape as the rest of the ones you pulled off. You are an idiot. I hate you.
3) Guy in front of me for the ATM in Sydney -- Let's see. I've been traveling for some 30 hours, I'm finally out of customs and baggage claim, and all that stands between me and my apartment is some cash for the taxi. Now I KNOW you were standing in front of me in this line for at least five minutes. Yet somehow you wait until you're standing in front of the ATM to put aside your suitcase, fish through your man-purse, pull out your wallet, and then go into your wallet looking for the tiny little flip folder thing where you keep your ATM card. Oh wait, not that one...the blue one. All so you can take out a measly $20. You will never understand the depths of my rage during those few minutes, as indicated by the sheepish smile you shot me when you were finally finished. DIE.
Not sure it's all out of my system yet, you may want to check back for more ranting later in the week.
2 comments:
I totally feel your pain. It's like the American tourists who go to McDonalds here and then wait until they get to the front of the line and are like, "Hmm, what should I get?" Bitch, we have the same shit here as in America. Get your fucking Big Mac and get outta here. Because I am inevitably hungover when I'm there and I have no tolerance for this shit.
You said Slow Death! That's mine!
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