Saturday, September 27, 2008

608… always late.

608 was the number of my company, back in '67, at USN boot camp. We always seemed to be late. So, our little diddy went like this… 608 – always late – hurry up and wait. So, here we are, in the Munich airport, up at the butt crack of dawn, trying to catch a flight to Amsterdam. Brother Dave sailed right through. Our e-ticket failed, so we had to go that special line. You know that line, where all the misfits and retards go… well that was us. “Have you changed your ticket?” … No. Finally, the big computer spits out two boarding passes. We check our bags (I’m tired of carrying that freakin bag!) then slice through security like a razor though Velveeta. Keep your shoes on and your belt too. Liquids, they never even asked. The Amerikans are WAY more uptight than the Europeans.
We were up at 4:00 this a.m. Flipped on the German TV… they were broadcasting the pres debate. Over on channel 14, they were showing a model taking off all of her clothes and writhing around on a bed… there are some things I like about this country! Then again, I wasn’t singing its praises yesterday, when the dipshit cab driver dropped us off at the wrong hotel. We had to schlep our bags a half mile to the correct hotel. Nothing that 1.5L of beer couldn’t fix.
Flying used to be so romantic. Now, its like a root canal.
Oh well, they’re calling us. Ciao.

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