Till you have to fly post Dana Air crash.
1st there is a crowd.
Off course there is a crowd- why won't there be a crowd?
When the person selling tickets is constantly on the phone.
Eventually when you are done struggling to buy your tickets- you have to check in.
Surprise a looonger queue.
Which isn't strange, since the person checking you in is furiously typing away on her blackberry, because you know whoever she is conversing with at 6:15 is waaaay more important than you who bought a ticket and is trying to get home.
Eventually, she checks you in- but can not tag your bag because she ran out of tag paper. So she sends you to her co-worker.
Who won't tag your bag because " all she has done is tag bags all day and not checked anyone in" Somehow acting like this is your fault.
Eventually the bag gets tagged. Hurrahhhhhh!
NOT.
Anyway when you finally manaage to survive the rush at security and the obscene frisking.
You finally get released to the tarmac.
Except its raining. And you are thankful you took out my weave last night.
But the passengers are standing there- with our clothes. Under the rain. Getting wet and awaiting our suitcases.
Eventually their suitcases arrive and guess what?
Your suitcase isn't there.
So after speaking to 5 different men in reflective jackets. They direct you to the security.
Then you find out- that you have a can of malt in your bag. So your bag constitutes a security risk.
So you take out the malt.
And they rescan the bag- surprise you have a bottle of wine.
"Its not allowed didn't you know?"
Know that you are not allowed to travel with liquids of any kind?
No- how would you? know that wine checked into your suitcase is too heavy for the plane?
Offcourse so what you do- is grovel and beg- because the gods of wine forbid, you gift the woman's husband- who won't appreciate it anyways- with your sexy bottle of wine.
Eventually she let's you go- but only if you tag your bag fragile.
Except the boarding counter has closed.
So more grovelling and begging. And eventually you get on the plane.
And in the usual manner of these things- there are other passengers who believe 1st flights are jokes.
These ones won't move out of the aisle. The loiter and crack wretched jokes that you don't care for.
Eventually you locate your seat.
The man beside you has claimed your arm rest.
Besides you are young what do you want to rest your arm for anyway?
In all of this madness- you see girls with perfectly applied make up in 5inch heels and toting vanity cases and you wonder how they do it.
That which is excellent endures forever.
Sent from my O-berry.
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