People have been coming up to me all day and pestering me. They have been tugging at my sleeves, tapping me on the shoulder, and just making general, all-around nuisances of themselves. What they want to know is when I will be posting another edition of my award-winning gear-grinding series (see What Grinds My Gears I). Today's installment is actually being written from my sardine-like quarters at 38000 feet up in air on my US Air flight to Denver, Colorado. I was sitting in the world's most uncomfortable seat, clearly designed by Dr. Mengele. After struggling to drift to sleep for what seemed like 38 minutes (actually it was 38 minutes), I managed to finally drift off. It was at this very moment that some fudge bag who was wandering down the aisle with all the grace of a pregnant water buffalo grabbed my seat to steady himself. This 300 lb blob leaned with such force on my seat back that I was literally thrown from my chair upon his release. This really grinds my gears. Of course it may not be this sumo wrestlers fault that he had to lean on my chair. The aisles are all of 3.5 inches wide and are constantly being patrolled by wayward "beverage" carts of doom that are designed to run over your feet or jab you in the shins whenever they sense that you are managing the least bit well. Actually at this moment, I am going a bit off course as the whole airline industry really grinds my gears, but that is the subject of another post.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Grind My Gears II
People have been coming up to me all day and pestering me. They have been tugging at my sleeves, tapping me on the shoulder, and just making general, all-around nuisances of themselves. What they want to know is when I will be posting another edition of my award-winning gear-grinding series (see What Grinds My Gears I). Today's installment is actually being written from my sardine-like quarters at 38000 feet up in air on my US Air flight to Denver, Colorado. I was sitting in the world's most uncomfortable seat, clearly designed by Dr. Mengele. After struggling to drift to sleep for what seemed like 38 minutes (actually it was 38 minutes), I managed to finally drift off. It was at this very moment that some fudge bag who was wandering down the aisle with all the grace of a pregnant water buffalo grabbed my seat to steady himself. This 300 lb blob leaned with such force on my seat back that I was literally thrown from my chair upon his release. This really grinds my gears. Of course it may not be this sumo wrestlers fault that he had to lean on my chair. The aisles are all of 3.5 inches wide and are constantly being patrolled by wayward "beverage" carts of doom that are designed to run over your feet or jab you in the shins whenever they sense that you are managing the least bit well. Actually at this moment, I am going a bit off course as the whole airline industry really grinds my gears, but that is the subject of another post.
