Tuesday, November 04, 2008
what fresh hell... pt4
the bastard is back at his desk now.
i got in last night on time.
i got home on time.
but it goes like this,
if mos eisley spaceport is a place where you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy then,
at the atlanta airport, you will never find a more wretched hive of hipsters in converse all stars and ironic hoodies.
i mean for fuck's sake, everyone was decked out in the uniform. some were even rocking their brooklyn hats. it's a little over the top for the bastard. i culd go on about the guy with the high hair who was discussing his bands photoshoot ad nauseum, or the guy who looked totally indignant because some poor black woman had gotten between he and his woman and called her rude and declared everyone in new york rude (by the way, fuck you buddy) but i won't. the bastard has a meeting and he isn't looking forward to it.
as a side note, i almost dies in a cab last night. 3 connected flights and i almost get killed by a cabby who doesn't know how to get onto the van wyck expressway and talk on the phone at the same time. welcome home to me.