Funny travel story
Feb 4th, 2005, 11:15 PM
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Funny travel story
After the seriousness of my last post; I thought I should post somthing more light-hearted. This was written 1/05.
I am at it again. For those who didn't get a chance to follow my
travel log from the previous year; I've been traveling all over the
globe. The last few years have taken me from Hawii and the contininal
United States, to Europe, and finally to Asia (Mexico doesn't count
does it?). This year, I figured I need a visit to Vietnam before it
because inundated with tourism. What seemingly is a secret to
Americans, Europeans has for some time figured out that Asia is
paradise on the cheap.
Traditional I always like to start with air travel horror stories.
Here's how it all started: I flew economy class where anything goes
pretty much. I wish to God that I would of paid a few more dollars to
save myself the following. I don't know if it's a testament to the
lack of my abilities to learn; but ever year I say I going to upgrade
my plane ticket. But right before I actually do it, I always think my
capacity for tolerance, patients, and understanding of human frailty
has hit a high point with my ever-increasing age. Well it didn't.
Nineteen hours in a confined space is too much for me. The seat; it
must have been designed by the same people that invented the Chinese
water-torture. I understand the economics of limited space; but why is
it that the headrest is always too high. For God-Sack, this is a
flight to Asia where 5'7" is considered tall. Then there's the fabric
of these seats: Is it me or is the seat made of sandpaper with itching
powder for kicks? If this is a marketing tactic to get us to upgrade,
I promise I upgrade to Business-class on anything over seven hours.
Well it gets worst. Everyone who has ever flown knows that your person
seating next to you can either make your trip heaven (e.g. Swedish
bikini team seating next to you in very-very tight space after taking
experimental breast enhancement surgery) or hell. Of course I fall
into the latter. It's compound by the fact that I sat in between two
hideous people. The halitosis was beyond what any one human being
should ever experience. It was like a wave of bad thermal energy
penetrating my noise and fertilizing my senses with blanket of pure
feces. Thank the High-Heavens they thought I couldn't speak
Vietnamese; the thought of a conversation makes me nauseous. What made
it bad though was the fact that people tend to lean towards one
another when they sleep. This guy rolled over to my space: He touched
me with is foul-smelling body. To this day I feel violated. Can
someone please hold me right now! Because of this encounter I think I
going to patent a body condom for air travelers. Not to be without
minty-fresh favor and touch-sensitive fragrances. This horror story
could go on and on but I'll leave with the fact that I was flanked on
both sides by this air-torture technique. Don't feel too sorry for me;
I've landed and have another great and humorous Asian massage story.
I am at it again. For those who didn't get a chance to follow my
travel log from the previous year; I've been traveling all over the
globe. The last few years have taken me from Hawii and the contininal
United States, to Europe, and finally to Asia (Mexico doesn't count
does it?). This year, I figured I need a visit to Vietnam before it
because inundated with tourism. What seemingly is a secret to
Americans, Europeans has for some time figured out that Asia is
paradise on the cheap.
Traditional I always like to start with air travel horror stories.
Here's how it all started: I flew economy class where anything goes
pretty much. I wish to God that I would of paid a few more dollars to
save myself the following. I don't know if it's a testament to the
lack of my abilities to learn; but ever year I say I going to upgrade
my plane ticket. But right before I actually do it, I always think my
capacity for tolerance, patients, and understanding of human frailty
has hit a high point with my ever-increasing age. Well it didn't.
Nineteen hours in a confined space is too much for me. The seat; it
must have been designed by the same people that invented the Chinese
water-torture. I understand the economics of limited space; but why is
it that the headrest is always too high. For God-Sack, this is a
flight to Asia where 5'7" is considered tall. Then there's the fabric
of these seats: Is it me or is the seat made of sandpaper with itching
powder for kicks? If this is a marketing tactic to get us to upgrade,
I promise I upgrade to Business-class on anything over seven hours.
Well it gets worst. Everyone who has ever flown knows that your person
seating next to you can either make your trip heaven (e.g. Swedish
bikini team seating next to you in very-very tight space after taking
experimental breast enhancement surgery) or hell. Of course I fall
into the latter. It's compound by the fact that I sat in between two
hideous people. The halitosis was beyond what any one human being
should ever experience. It was like a wave of bad thermal energy
penetrating my noise and fertilizing my senses with blanket of pure
feces. Thank the High-Heavens they thought I couldn't speak
Vietnamese; the thought of a conversation makes me nauseous. What made
it bad though was the fact that people tend to lean towards one
another when they sleep. This guy rolled over to my space: He touched
me with is foul-smelling body. To this day I feel violated. Can
someone please hold me right now! Because of this encounter I think I
going to patent a body condom for air travelers. Not to be without
minty-fresh favor and touch-sensitive fragrances. This horror story
could go on and on but I'll leave with the fact that I was flanked on
both sides by this air-torture technique. Don't feel too sorry for me;
I've landed and have another great and humorous Asian massage story.
