July 18th 2013
So I’ve realized something.
I’m restless as SHIT.
So much in fact, I’ve been traveling like a maniac ALL OVER the damn place lately, leaving a trail of classic “Olive The People” disaster on my way out like >>>>
And this past weekend? I peaced the fuck out to Los Angeles to hang out with my damn family.
All of these events
A flight there >>>>>>>> <<<<<<< And a flight back.
So there I am.
On a plane.
Settin up shop in seat 14 D. Buckling my damn seat belt. Mentally pre-odering my beverage of choice so I could scream GINGERALE at Sherry the flight attendant’s face when she wheels her beverage buggy in my damn direction
Whilst I gear up for war just in case the over-sized chap next to me decides to monopolize the arm rest.
Sherry flipped on the intercom, tousled her hair
“Ladies and gentleman.
Thank you for flying Delta Airlines.
In preparation for take off, please stow away all electronic devices, place your carry-on baggage beneath the seat in front of you, bring your seats back into the
position and please turn your attention to the front >>>> of the cabin as the flight attendant will demonstrate the safety manual found in the seat pocket
Step the fuck off, Sherry.
I’m not listening to shit. Primarily because I want to finish this Billy Joel track on my i-pizzle and NO ONE comes between me and Billy Joel.
In fact. If you were to ask me to recap what you just said, I’d be all like:
Why? Because I’m far too busy keeping my i-Pal on for an extra 2 1/2 minutes out of SPITE, and shall tuck it under my butt every time the segundo flight attendant trolls the aisle ways with hawk eyes looking for reclined seats and questioning people’s comfiness level in an exit row.
later, post my discreet anxiety attack as the aircraft disperses itself from the ground and charges towards straight air per my financial request, is when I will reach for the in-flight safety manual that you kindly demonstrated (and I ignored) beforehand, and non-chalantly peer through the diagrams with Billy in my ears in an attempt to kill a whole 4 minutes on this damn flight.
And that’s when I’ll see it.
All of it.
The copious amounts of diagrams
And how much sense they don’t make.
How they were designed to save our lives in case of an emergency.
And how I’m laughing my balls off at them instead.
Consequently, creating alternate captions for these diagrams in my head.
And now in my damn blog:
20 Inappropriate Captions Alternatives To An In-flight Safety Manual
And there you have it.
20 unwarranted mockeries of the in-flight safety manuals you once took semi-seriously whilst you cruised at exceptional heights and ate age-old pretzels. Steamy times, I know. I’m now going to continue investing my life with worthwhile activities like: eating leftover biscottis and continuing my mission to find Diane.