the smack factor

Before i even begin, I should punt a quick “I think I now really know what you mean” over to Mistress Twinkles. Let me just say, I get it. In fact, I get it even more because I am actually doing something that I didn’t know I was on deck to do until I showed up – and now I’m getting pressure (EVEN DURING WORK TRAVEL) to deliver… ugh I can’t vent. It’s just negative poo energy. anyway, I get it. Oh, and that’s what i should be doing now – but I’d rather blog about my awesome plane ride home from LA. And maybe I’ll comment on the thing that is ROLLING all over the roof due to the ridiculous wind in NYC right now.

So, planes, right? What’s up with that? I was up really late the night before the night before leaving and then up way early the next day for no reason – so getting up at 5:00am to catch a 7:00am plane wasn’t looking fabu to me. What really helped out was my incredible ability to not fall asleep HARD. I was up an down all night. So when the wake up call sounded, I was already kind of awake. Here’s where the fun begins. I walk out, down the stairs, and out to the taxi circle. Mind you, the concierge said “we have taxis outside 24-7″ which said to me that was their only mode of transportation AND that it would be (gasp, no) like NYC. I grab a cab. As the man is putting my suitcase in the back i say “You take credit cards, right”

“grunt grunt”

I sit down, he asks where I’m going. I say “you said you take credit, right?” He says “you have cash please.” I said “well then how much is it to Burbank?” beacuse I had 20 bucks on me. “uh, 30 – 35″, he grunts again. “well, i don’t have that in cash” – I say, getting cranky. He turns around to me. and says.

“maybe ATM.”

So I told him to pop the trunk and that I’d find another cab who won’t refuse fare. I get out, some other guy runs over, they both start burbling back and forth in a different language and gesture at me. I’m told to get back in the car. Fast forward to the airport. the ride was expensive. He tells me the total and says “how much will you pay?”

“I’ll pay [the amount]” – me, like what else would I pay. To this he is dead silent.

“[the amount]?” he repeats at me, with a nasty tone.

“yes.”

“That is the total!!!” – he practically yells at me. I get HOT and sweaty and MAD and shout

“DON’T WORRY, I’m GOING TO TIP YOU SIR! I HAVE CASH FOR TIP! SIR!” – it’s farting five oclock in the god damn morning. Chill the fuck out, rude cabbie.

I get out, I trundle up to the gate, and once again wonder why anyone flies Jet Poo. Here are the highlights:

• I sat next to clumsy rude lady, who kept touching the non touch screen and getting mad. No I didn’t help her, why start conversation
• I sat also next to (oh, you figured it out, i was in the middle) a guy with the smelliest breath in the world. And he was stuffed up so he breathed through his mouth. And chewed on his headphones cord. And gnawed on his hangnails. And yawned open mouthed and loudly. All of which sent hot acrid poison breath into my nasal cavities. I couldn’t fall asleep because his breath was so tainted with dead hooker farts.
• I got off the plane to rain. Which normally would be fine except for the fact that there were accidents. and my cab driver had horrible breath.

I am happy to be home. I love my home. I also love coming home and seeing what Factor’s idea of cleaning is in comparison to mine.