[ARCHIVED THREAD] - My recent flight- Small rant (Page 1 of 2)
Posted: 7/3/2013 8:34:15 AM EDT
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Traveling with young kids is bad. So is flying with old people. Shit sucks real bad. Here's my tale.
We recently went to a wedding in Colorado. We have a family business and a family farm. Both had to be closed down from Thursday-Sunday for the wedding. Nobody was excited about that. Coming back from the wedding...left lodge at 5:30am, got to airport at 7:30am for 10:00am flight. Me, my wife, our 2 year old, my inlaws, and my mil's 90 year old parents. And all of our shit. Lots of fucking bags and shit. And a big fucking car seat. With an antler strapped inside of it. Get our asses in the United line, wait twenty minutes before we realize we're in the wrong line. MIL is holding the tickets, and she sees something about US Airways and panics. Being a bunch of hung over sheep, we follow her and unass the line. As we leave the fucking line, FIL realizes that we do indeed have United flights and that a choke a bitch manuver is in order as soon as he gets home. A nice customer service lady sees our bumbling retardation and points us into the direction of the Super Platinum Gold Card Executive fucking counter. Fucking sweet, we've arrived. The cunt at the desk gets all uppity and shit when she realizes that we are not Super Gold Club Fascist Members and tries her best to tell us to fuck off. As my MIL and FIL verbally berate this stupid lady, I notice that there's exactly ONE fucking flight on the board that's delayed. "That's gotta be our flight," I thought as I tried to my best not to hurl that fucking car seat into the crowd of people. Sure as shit, our fucking 10am flight was pushed to 5pm. FUUUUUUCK, our connecting flight in Houston is 7:30pm, which gives us 30 minutes at best to hump our slow asses across a terminal. Not going to get home today. Shit fire. the newly weds shared the same flight, and now missed their London flight. Fuck. As I'm changing our son's diaper in the filthy fucking bathroom, my wife decided to check all of our bags. Now we have no diapers, no clothes, nothing. I've got my suit in a garment bag, a big fucking car seat, a backpack full of coloring books and crayons, and an antler. That fucking antler. We go through fucking security, and find an area that would accommodate our fucking crew. My shoulder is about numb from carrying the car seat. We eat Burger King breakfast, and then make our way to the gate. There, we sit for seven or eight hours. I starred at carpet for the most part. Our kid had a blast. He colored in his coloring books, ate candy, and talked openly about the weird ass people you see in airports. "That fat lady's on a motocycle?" he would say loudly. "That guy's dark!" he would say to the black people. (He's intrigued by fat people on scooters and has seen maybe three black people in his existence) At 4:00pm, I'm getting antsy. At 4:15pm, our flight gets pushed to 6, then 7, then 8. Fuck me. We then booked a flight out of Houston for 8:30 the following morning. We'd still make it to work around lunch time on Monday. I about lose my shit when some faggot came to sit down in our area when grandpa and grandma were in the shitter. "Someone's sitting there, sorry" "Oh, invisible friends! Sorry me." I about jammed that fucking antler in his fucking skull. I sat there for the better part of the hour, trying to decide which aspect of this yuppy fuck I hate more. Is it his mom jeans, his faggot cheap brown fucking shoes, his goofy faggot glasses, his stupid dolt of a cunt wife, his faggot wispy looking fucking faggot curly hair? Couldn't decide, but I wanted to shred this guys face. We board the fucking plane at around 9, and I wrestle the fucking retardedly huge car seat into the plane. I finally managed to get it fastened in and get my son seated. "Daddy, I need to go poop." Fuuuuck, he hasn't crapped all day, and I'm afraid he's gonna have a blow out, since he's wearing new-born sized fucking diapers. Since we had no diapers, I got some at the magazine shop for like five fucking dollars each. He's a size 5, and these are size 2. Looked like low-rise speedos. I get him out of the fucking seat and into the tiny stall of a bathroom. Stand him up on the counter, and get his pants off. No poop, no pee. At that time he rips a serious fucking fart. A legit ripper. He looks at me, smiles, and says, "I farted." That was the bright spot in my day, the first time I smiled. We high five and make our way back to the seat. As I get to our row, I see that the "Invisible Friend" comment guy is sitting right behind me. Perfect. I hope this fucking plane crashes, and that guy is the only one to die. Once I get my son situated, I shimmy into my seat and the fucking crazy cat lady in front of me starts moaning in agony. "Sir, do you have a cane of something." "A cane, what the fuck, no." "Something's jabbing my foot, waaaa!" I then remembered that the fucking antler was under her seat, and I must have shoved it all the way forward. As I'm tugging on this fucking thing, she moans louder and louder. "What are you doing?!!? Whaaaaa, that hurts!!!!" "Sorry ma'am, my antler is stuck, can you move your feet further up while I dislodge it?" "An antler????!!! What ???!!!" "Ma'am, I'm trying to get it out, can you move your feet up?" "My feet are up, owwww, aaaaa, whaaaaaa, that hurts!!!!!" I finally manage to lodge myself under the seat and physically see that the antler is caught in those aluminum extrusions that keep shit from going into the next row. I mange to bend the fuckers and get it out. I get back in my seat, buckle down, and nearly lose my shit. At this point, I can't hear anything and I'm numb. About that time, the pilot announces that a brief storm is moving in and we're going to wait it out. Fuuck. Invisible friend guy is now laughing hysterically at every video on the Tosh.0 that's playing on his monitor. God I hate Invisible Friend guy. An hour later of stewing, some twat comes on and says that it's time to deplane due to weather. PERFECT. We get off of the plane and it's 11:00pm. MIL gets on the phone with AMEX and gets a flight for 8:30am. At that time it's midnight and all the local hotels are booked. I had to call my house sitter again, and let him know to keep coming to let our dogs out. We decide that it would be easier to just sleep in the terminal than deal with the butt fuck of getting out crew out of here, into a shuttle, into a hotel, and back. I scope out a dark spot at the end of the gate and stake claim. I make a bed for the little one with my garment bag, and my wife got a new snuggie. I don't recall sleeping. I think I just did the David Puddy stare for 7 hours. It got cold in there, and we got to listen to the fucking man lifts all fucking night. And all the automated voices that come on every second. Jesus. After all of that bullshit, everything aligned, and we got home that Monday afternoon. Our bags weren't even lost. |
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Why did you bring antlers and old people on a plane?  . Sorry, but you are that guy.
The guy that makes air travel a living nightmare for the rest of us. Try not to be such a rube. 
I fly about 3 weeks out of the month for business. I've got it down to a science and I hate....I mean fucking hate....the people who fuck it all up. I am doing everything in my power to keep my family off an airplane until my daughter is at least 10. I don't want to be "that guy" and have to fucking hate myself. |
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Quoted:
Quoted:
Why did you bring antlers and old people on a plane? . Sorry, but you are that guy.
The guy that makes air travel a living nightmare for the rest of us. Try not to be such a rube.
I fly about 3 weeks out of the month for business. I've got it down to a science and I hate....I mean fucking hate....the people who fuck it all up. I am doing everything in my power to keep my family off an airplane until my daughter is at least 10. I don't want to be "that guy" and have to fucking hate myself. I do it for a living and my kids have been flying since day one. Sometimes, we are all "that guy". But really, if you bring a fucking set of antlers, a baby, and a set of old people as your carry on, you lose your right to complain. It's right there in the FARs |
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You cant bring antlers on a plane! .
Sorry, but you are that guy. I saw you edited your post, but I'll respond anyways. I didn't want to be that guy that fucks up the works for business travelers. I didn't want to take time off during our busy season. I prayed to get sick and have to stay home. Unfortunately, we all have to face our Clark Griswold moments in life. And believe me, I wanted to chunk that antler in the trash, but the wife wouldn't let me. It was a gift from the bride and groom. Our bags were at capacity, so the only choice was to carry them on or toss them. |
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Quoted:
Why did you bring antlers and old people on a plane? . Sorry, but you are that guy.
The guy that makes air travel a living nightmare for the rest of us. Try not to be such a rube. Sounds like the stupid antler is the only thing that really caused any problems. Why did you bring an antler on a plane? Or the car seat for that matter. On the plane you need: (1) entertainment for the kids, (2) snacks for everyone, (4) changes of clothes for the kids, squished down in a gallon zip loc and stashed in the bottom of a bag, (5) baby supplies if needed, and (6) whatever you need to keep yourself sane. Here's how you travel with kids (we have 3, all under 5) and have people give you compliments when the flight is over: - don't carry extra crap (see above), either check bags or UPS stuff. - bring snacks for kids - bring like 15 gallon sized zip loc bags. Use them for trash bags, to put wet clothes in, to store the crayons that are no longer in the box, etc. - clean up after yourself - buy toys to surprise the kids with (little stuff without small pieces to lose--boys are easy; go buy 10 hot wheels cars and dole them out as needed) - and the real secret: buy ipad minis, fill them with kid apps and ripped movies, plus over-the-ear headphones. Worth their weight in gold on a plane. - finally, no antlers. Who brings antlers on planes? |
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I have to fly a lot. I travel light and check all my shit. I feel for you OP, I really do. You had the perfect trifecta going; inlaws, old people, and a small kid. Oh, forgot about the antler. That fucking antler.
Thanks for the laugh! Btw, posted using inflight wifi. |
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Quoted:
Why did you bring antlers and old people on a plane? . Sorry, but you are that guy.
The guy that makes air travel a living nightmare for the rest of us. Try not to be such a rube. Sounds like the stupid antler is the only thing that really caused any problems. Why did you bring an antler on a plane? Or the car seat for that matter. On the plane you need: (1) entertainment for the kids, (2) snacks for everyone, (4) changes of clothes for the kids, squished down in a gallon zip loc and stashed in the bottom of a bag, (5) baby supplies if needed, and (6) whatever you need to keep yourself sane. Here's how you travel with kids (we have 3, all under 5) and have people give you compliments when the flight is over: - don't carry extra crap (see above), either check bags or UPS stuff. - bring snacks for kids - bring like 15 gallon sized zip loc bags. Use them for trash bags, to put wet clothes in, to store the crayons that are no longer in the box, etc. - clean up after yourself - buy toys to surprise the kids with (little stuff without small pieces to lose--boys are easy; go buy 10 hot wheels cars and dole them out as needed) - and the real secret: buy ipad minis, fill them with kid apps and ripped movies, plus over-the-ear headphones. Worth their weight in gold on a plane. - finally, no antlers. Who brings antlers on planes? Post above yours for the antlers^ We do everything on that list, except for the antler. A dozen Hot Wheels and new crayons is par for any trip. Car seat was carried on since I thought there may be a chance we would have to (a) leave the airport, or (b) drive from Houston. It was checked on the flight there. |
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And believe me, I wanted to chunk that antler in the trash, but the wife wouldn't let me. It was a gift from the bride and groom. Our bags were at capacity, so the only choice was to carry them on or toss them. There's this crazy new thing called UPS and FedEx you may want to research |
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Quoted:
Quoted:
Why did you bring antlers and old people on a plane? . Sorry, but you are that guy.
The guy that makes air travel a living nightmare for the rest of us. Try not to be such a rube.
I fly about 3 weeks out of the month for business. I've got it down to a science and I hate....I mean fucking hate....the people who fuck it all up. I am doing everything in my power to keep my family off an airplane until my daughter is at least 10. I don't want to be "that guy" and have to fucking hate myself. I do it for a living and my kids have been flying since day one. Sometimes, we are all "that guy". But really, if you bring a fucking set of antlers, a baby, and a set of old people as your carry on, you lose your right to complain. It's right there in the FARs Can I steal that as a sig please? That's gold |
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Antlers. That's fucking brilliant - no TSA regs against antlers and yet a viable weapon.
Machmoud: "I have box cutter! Stay in seat!" ARFCommer: "I have a two-foot-long fucking antler! 700lb beasts with raging hardons and no sense of fear gore each other to death with this shit just for getting looked at sideways! 1-2-3-death, motherfucker!!!" |
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Antlers. That's fucking brilliant - no TSA regs against antlers and yet a viable weapon. Machmoud: "I have box cutter! Stay in seat!" ARFCommer: "I have a two-foot-long fucking antler! 700lb beasts with raging hardons and no sense of fear gore each other to death with this shit just for getting looked at sideways! 1-2-3-death, motherfucker!!!" Seriously, I prayed for TSA to take them from me. They did spend five minutes finger fucking the carseat though. The stale cheetohs and cracker crumbs must have thrown some suspicion. Car seat in question. 
When we boarded the last puddle jumper in Houston, some Jamaican crew member said, "Na maaaan, dat seats too big. I put it under plane." I tipped him $10 for relieving me of the burden. |
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Those antlers weren't a gift, they were a fucking joke to see if you would carry them home on the airplane!
I would have stopped at a UPS store and shipped that shit back! And I too fucking HATE flying because of this shit! Not you and your antlers, but the way people are herded like sheep to the slaughter and paying big ass money for them to cancel a flight because there is an empty seat and they won't maximize their dollar profit. The last time I flew, I was stuck in airports all damned day trying to get from Vegas to SC. We left the hotel in vegas at 4:30am Vegas time for a 6:30 am flight that was cancelled. Got back to SC at 11:30 pm local time. Fuck the airlines!! And I've got to do this shit all over again next year. To make matters worse, I'm the fat guy no one wants to sit next to, so I bring my skinny ass wife to share the seats with. Then they bump her to another seat. WTF!! Well I don't want to hear any bitching! |
| I would have lasted 5 or 6 hours at best, then, when one of the workers opened one of those gate doors that goes to the plane or down to the tarmac, I would have rushed the door, ran down the stairs, then thrown myself into the closest running jet engine. Along with the car seat and fucking antler. |
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Quoted:
Quoted:
You cant bring antlers on a plane! .
Sorry, but you are that guy. I saw you edited your post, but I'll respond anyways. I didn't want to be that guy that fucks up the works for business travelers. I didn't want to take time off during our busy season. I prayed to get sick and have to stay home. Unfortunately, we all have to face our Clark Griswold moments in life. And believe me, I wanted to chunk that antler in the trash, but the wife wouldn't let me. It was a gift from the bride and groom. Our bags were at capacity, so the only choice was to carry them on or toss them. Edited, cause I was going for funny, not mean. I was just giving you shit. The experience sucks, even for those who travel light. You, however, brought the holy trinity of suckage. Only thing you forgot was a Fat Lady and that foreigner who coughs up TB lungers the whole time. I hate that fucker the most. The Fatties and the kids who kick my chair are a distant second and third. A guy with antlers is barely worth an honorable mention. |
| Christ man. That made our flights this past weekend sound like a dream. +1 for iPads. Our almost 2 year old watched Ironman and colored on my lap the whole flight. Also, the saint of a man who gave up his bulkhead seat for my wife so we could sit together, had to be a gift from Oden. |
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Traveling with your inlaws and you weren't already hammered by the time you got to the airport? Even with that lack of foresight, you then could not find a Bar in the Airport? Every airport in the world has at least one bar, it is the law.
You brought it all on yourself, sorry. |
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Traveling with young kids is bad. So is flying with old people. Shit sucks real bad. Here's my tale. I can't handle life unless its me - prepare for my epic story of my fail.... Quoted:
Coming back from the wedding...left lodge at 5:30am, got to airport at 7:30am for 10:00am flight. Me, my wife, our 2 year old, my inlaws, and my mil's 90 year old parents. And all of our shit. Lots of fucking bags and shit. And a big fucking car seat. With an antler strapped inside of it. I'm traveling with my beloved family and we brought so much baggage along just because. Oh, and we didn't check on the flight status before we left. This will come back to haunt me, but I'll blame the airline for my mistake. Quoted:
Get our asses in the United line, wait twenty minutes before we realize we're in the wrong line. MIL is holding the tickets, and she sees something about US Airways and panics. Being a bunch of hung over sheep, we follow her and unass the line. As we leave the fucking line, FIL realizes that we do indeed have United flights and that a choke a bitch manuver is in order as soon as he gets home. A nice customer service lady sees our bumbling retardation and points us into the direction of the Super Platinum Gold Card Executive fucking counter. Fucking sweet, we've arrived. Please take my Man Card as I'm too much of a pussy to handle my own tickets and can't pay attention enough to even read simple signs. I refuse to take responsibility for my life, and quite honestly, am amazed I even got registered to post on ARFCOM. Quoted:
The cunt at the desk gets all uppity and shit when she realizes that we are not Super Gold Club Fascist Members and tries her best to tell us to fuck off. As my MIL and FIL verbally berate this stupid lady, I notice that there's exactly ONE fucking flight on the board that's delayed. "That's gotta be our flight," I thought as I tried to my best not to hurl that fucking car seat into the crowd of people. Note - She's stupid, and we're not for being in the wrong line. And of course, we're rude to her because that will make her want to help us in our amazing display of stupidity. Quoted:
Sure as shit, our fucking 10am flight was pushed to 5pm. FUUUUUUCK, our connecting flight in Houston is 7:30pm, which gives us 30 minutes at best to hump our slow asses across a terminal. Not going to get home today. Shit fire. the newly weds shared the same flight, and now missed their London flight. Fuck. See, I told you this would come back to haunt us. But of course, its not our fault. Let us continue.... Quoted:
As I'm changing our son's diaper in the filthy fucking bathroom, my wife decided to check all of our bags. Now we have no diapers, no clothes, nothing. I've got my suit in a garment bag, a big fucking car seat, a backpack full of coloring books and crayons, and an antler. That fucking antler. Ah, more fail. We're almost running out of mistakes to make, etc. but trust me, we're experts and will easily conjure up more fail. No, really. Don't attempt this at home. We're EXPERTS. Quoted:
We go through fucking security, and find an area that would accommodate our fucking crew. My shoulder is about numb from carrying the car seat. We eat Burger King breakfast, and then make our way to the gate. There, we sit for seven or eight hours. I starred at carpet for the most part. Our kid had a blast. He colored in his coloring books, ate candy, and talked openly about the weird ass people you see in airports. "That fat lady's on a motocycle?" he would say loudly. "That guy's dark!" he would say to the black people. (He's intrigued by fat people on scooters and has seen maybe three black people in his existence) You should see us when we go to Walmart of the DMV. No, really. Quoted:
At 4:00pm, I'm getting antsy. At 4:15pm, our flight gets pushed to 6, then 7, then 8. Fuck me. We then booked a flight out of Houston for 8:30 the following morning. We'd still make it to work around lunch time on Monday. See, I told you we were masters at fail. Instead of re-booking, we pissed away the whole day, and never ONCE checked to see the status of the flight. Haha! We are truly MASTERS OF FAIL! Quoted:
I about lose my shit when some faggot came to sit down in our area when grandpa and grandma were in the shitter. "Someone's sitting there, sorry" "Oh, invisible friends! Sorry me." There's nobody who can escape my wrath. Thankfully this idiot came over to me and saved me the trouble of getting off my ass to find him elsewhere. Mighty kind of the faggot. Quoted:
I about jammed that fucking antler in his fucking skull. I sat there for the better part of the hour, trying to decide which aspect of this yuppy fuck I hate more. Is it his mom jeans, his faggot cheap brown fucking shoes, his goofy faggot glasses, his stupid dolt of a cunt wife, his faggot wispy looking fucking faggot curly hair? Couldn't decide, but I wanted to shred this guys face. Pretty happy with my use of words there. Yup. Fucking Tom Clancy I am. 
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We board the fucking plane at around 9, and I wrestle the fucking retardedly huge car seat into the plane. I finally managed to get it fastened in and get my son seated. "Daddy, I need to go poop." Fuuuuck, he hasn't crapped all day, and I'm afraid he's gonna have a blow out, since he's wearing new-born sized fucking diapers. Since we had no diapers, I got some at the magazine shop for like five fucking dollars each. He's a size 5, and these are size 2. Looked like low-rise speedos. Now I need to point out here that I love my fucking kid. Really, I do. Sucks that he was born to such idiot parents, but hey - I didn't get to pick mine either. Quoted:
I get him out of the fucking seat and into the tiny stall of a bathroom. Stand him up on the counter, and get his pants off. No poop, no pee. At that time he rips a serious fucking fart. A legit ripper. He looks at me, smiles, and says, "I farted." That was the bright spot in my day, the first time I smiled. We high five and make our way back to the seat. My only regret is that we were in the bathroom and not back in our seat when he farted. That would have been epic. No, fucking EPIC! Quoted:
As I get to our row, I see that the "Invisible Friend" comment guy is sitting right behind me. Perfect. I hope this fucking plane crashes, and that guy is the only one to die. Thankfully, I don't hold grudges. Can you imagine those fucking idiots who do? Crazy I tell ya, crazy. Quoted:
Once I get my son situated, I shimmy into my seat and the fucking crazy cat lady in front of me starts moaning in agony. "Sir, do you have a cane of something." "A cane, what the fuck, no." "Something's jabbing my foot, waaaa!" This was so cool. I placed my shit so strategically that I was screwing with other passengers. Share the love. Share the love! Quoted:
I then remembered that the fucking antler was under her seat, and I must have shoved it all the way forward. As I'm tugging on this fucking thing, she moans louder and louder. "What are you doing?!!? Whaaaaa, that hurts!!!!" "Sorry ma'am, my antler is stuck, can you move your feet further up while I dislodge it?" "An antler????!!! What ???!!!" "Ma'am, I'm trying to get it out, can you move your feet up?" "My feet are up, owwww, aaaaa, whaaaaaa, that hurts!!!!!" What a bitch! Quoted:
I finally manage to lodge myself under the seat and physically see that the antler is caught in those aluminum extrusions that keep shit from going into the next row. I mange to bend the fuckers and get it out. I get back in my seat, buckle down, and nearly lose my shit. At this point, I can't hear anything and I'm numb. Can you imagine the idiot fucking engineer who didn't consider that someone would put a fucking antler under the seat?! What a fucking moron! Quoted:
About that time, the pilot announces that a brief storm is moving in and we're going to wait it out. Fuuck. Invisible friend guy is now laughing hysterically at every video on the Tosh.0 that's playing on his monitor. God I hate Invisible Friend guy. An hour later of stewing, some twat comes on and says that it's time to deplane due to weather. PERFECT. We get off of the plane and it's 11:00pm. MIL gets on the phone with AMEX and gets a flight for 8:30am. At that time it's midnight and all the local hotels are booked. I had to call my house sitter again, and let him know to keep coming to let our dogs out. Still trying to figure out a way to bitch about the weather dude ... gimme some time. I'll make edits later. Quoted:
We decide that it would be easier to just sleep in the terminal than deal with the butt fuck of getting out crew out of here, into a shuttle, into a hotel, and back. I scope out a dark spot at the end of the gate and stake claim. I make a bed for the little one with my garment bag, and my wife got a new snuggie. I don't recall sleeping. I think I just did the David Puddy stare for 7 hours. It got cold in there, and we got to listen to the fucking man lifts all fucking night. And all the automated voices that come on every second. Jesus. After all of that bullshit, everything aligned, and we got home that Monday afternoon. Our bags weren't even lost. And there you have it. If any of you idiots need travel advice from an expert, you know who to call. Shit yeah - I'm DA MAN! |
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Traveling with young kids is bad. So is flying with old people. Shit sucks real bad. Here's my tale. We recently went to a wedding in Colorado. We have a family business and a family farm. Both had to be closed down from Thursday-Sunday for the wedding. Nobody was excited about that. Coming back from the wedding...left lodge at 5:30am, got to airport at 7:30am for 10:00am flight. Me, my wife, our 2 year old, my inlaws, and my mil's 90 year old parents. And all of our shit. Lots of fucking bags and shit. And a big fucking car seat. With an antler strapped inside of it. Get our asses in the United line, wait twenty minutes before we realize we're in the wrong line. MIL is holding the tickets, and she sees something about US Airways and panics. Being a bunch of hung over sheep, we follow her and unass the line. As we leave the fucking line, FIL realizes that we do indeed have United flights and that a choke a bitch manuver is in order as soon as he gets home. A nice customer service lady sees our bumbling retardation and points us into the direction of the Super Platinum Gold Card Executive fucking counter. Fucking sweet, we've arrived. The cunt at the desk gets all uppity and shit when she realizes that we are not Super Gold Club Fascist Members and tries her best to tell us to fuck off. As my MIL and FIL verbally berate this stupid lady, I notice that there's exactly ONE fucking flight on the board that's delayed. "That's gotta be our flight," I thought as I tried to my best not to hurl that fucking car seat into the crowd of people. Sure as shit, our fucking 10am flight was pushed to 5pm. FUUUUUUCK, our connecting flight in Houston is 7:30pm, which gives us 30 minutes at best to hump our slow asses across a terminal. Not going to get home today. Shit fire. the newly weds shared the same flight, and now missed their London flight. Fuck. As I'm changing our son's diaper in the filthy fucking bathroom, my wife decided to check all of our bags. Now we have no diapers, no clothes, nothing. I've got my suit in a garment bag, a big fucking car seat, a backpack full of coloring books and crayons, and an antler. That fucking antler. We go through fucking security, and find an area that would accommodate our fucking crew. My shoulder is about numb from carrying the car seat. We eat Burger King breakfast, and then make our way to the gate. There, we sit for seven or eight hours. I starred at carpet for the most part. Our kid had a blast. He colored in his coloring books, ate candy, and talked openly about the weird ass people you see in airports. "That fat lady's on a motocycle?" he would say loudly. "That guy's dark!" he would say to the black people. (He's intrigued by fat people on scooters and has seen maybe three black people in his existence) At 4:00pm, I'm getting antsy. At 4:15pm, our flight gets pushed to 6, then 7, then 8. Fuck me. We then booked a flight out of Houston for 8:30 the following morning. We'd still make it to work around lunch time on Monday. I about lose my shit when some faggot came to sit down in our area when grandpa and grandma were in the shitter. "Someone's sitting there, sorry" "Oh, invisible friends! Sorry me." I about jammed that fucking antler in his fucking skull. I sat there for the better part of the hour, trying to decide which aspect of this yuppy fuck I hate more. Is it his mom jeans, his faggot cheap brown fucking shoes, his goofy faggot glasses, his stupid dolt of a cunt wife, his faggot wispy looking fucking faggot curly hair? Couldn't decide, but I wanted to shred this guys face. We board the fucking plane at around 9, and I wrestle the fucking retardedly huge car seat into the plane. I finally managed to get it fastened in and get my son seated. "Daddy, I need to go poop." Fuuuuck, he hasn't crapped all day, and I'm afraid he's gonna have a blow out, since he's wearing new-born sized fucking diapers. Since we had no diapers, I got some at the magazine shop for like five fucking dollars each. He's a size 5, and these are size 2. Looked like low-rise speedos. I get him out of the fucking seat and into the tiny stall of a bathroom. Stand him up on the counter, and get his pants off. No poop, no pee. At that time he rips a serious fucking fart. A legit ripper. He looks at me, smiles, and says, "I farted." That was the bright spot in my day, the first time I smiled. We high five and make our way back to the seat. As I get to our row, I see that the "Invisible Friend" comment guy is sitting right behind me. Perfect. I hope this fucking plane crashes, and that guy is the only one to die. Once I get my son situated, I shimmy into my seat and the fucking crazy cat lady in front of me starts moaning in agony. "Sir, do you have a cane of something." "A cane, what the fuck, no." "Something's jabbing my foot, waaaa!" I then remembered that the fucking antler was under her seat, and I must have shoved it all the way forward. As I'm tugging on this fucking thing, she moans louder and louder. "What are you doing?!!? Whaaaaa, that hurts!!!!" "Sorry ma'am, my antler is stuck, can you move your feet further up while I dislodge it?" "An antler????!!! What ???!!!" "Ma'am, I'm trying to get it out, can you move your feet up?" "My feet are up, owwww, aaaaa, whaaaaaa, that hurts!!!!!" I finally manage to lodge myself under the seat and physically see that the antler is caught in those aluminum extrusions that keep shit from going into the next row. I mange to bend the fuckers and get it out. I get back in my seat, buckle down, and nearly lose my shit. At this point, I can't hear anything and I'm numb. About that time, the pilot announces that a brief storm is moving in and we're going to wait it out. Fuuck. Invisible friend guy is now laughing hysterically at every video on the Tosh.0 that's playing on his monitor. God I hate Invisible Friend guy. An hour later of stewing, some twat comes on and says that it's time to deplane due to weather. PERFECT. We get off of the plane and it's 11:00pm. MIL gets on the phone with AMEX and gets a flight for 8:30am. At that time it's midnight and all the local hotels are booked. I had to call my house sitter again, and let him know to keep coming to let our dogs out. We decide that it would be easier to just sleep in the terminal than deal with the butt fuck of getting out crew out of here, into a shuttle, into a hotel, and back. I scope out a dark spot at the end of the gate and stake claim. I make a bed for the little one with my garment bag, and my wife got a new snuggie. I don't recall sleeping. I think I just did the David Puddy stare for 7 hours. It got cold in there, and we got to listen to the fucking man lifts all fucking night. And all the automated voices that come on every second. Jesus. After all of that bullshit, everything aligned, and we got home that Monday afternoon. Our bags weren't even lost. Lots of fail on your part along with other things but I admit I laughed  A bunch
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