I made it back OK. Traveling gets harder each year it seems.
I had smooth flights to Houston and on into Denver, even tho I was seated in the Sardine section.
When I got there, my pile-o-goodies was waiting. a good size stack of boxes about 3 1/2 feet high, and 3 feet wide. Once all were opened and void of packing pads, it all fit into my rolling duffle no problem.
I'll cover all that in awhile. but first let me describe my trip back.
I began to get a bit worried about my bag about 6 days into the trip. It was nowhere near full, but I felt I was bumping up into my 50# weight limit. (pricks can haul the space shuttle all over but I only get 50lbs?)
Finally, I devised a plan.
If the bag did weigh more than the allowed 50#'s, I would remove the spare camera bag packed inside and load it with shit till I reached 50#'s. Then use the camera bag as my other carry-on.
Well bigger than shit, I weighed in at 59.5. Uh oohhhh.
Out comes the camera bag, but for the life of me I could not get 9.5 pounds of shit into it!
Fuck.
Now I see they want to charge me 200$ for the overweight bag!
Fuck.
Looking into it further I see I can upgrade to 'Business class' for 129$ and they get a 70# bag limit!
What would you do?
That's what I thought, I upgraded too.
But for reasons known only to the airlines, I was only upgraded for the flight from Houston to Belize?
The Denver to Houston flight I was back in the Sardine section again, sharing an isle with a cute young girl and a some other schmo.
But come time to board in Houston, I was the first swinging dick on the plane!
Sat my happy ass down in seat 3B and was immediately handed a cold beer!
The 'front' of the plane never did fill up and soon the Sardines began to arrive.
Did I feel out of place? Oh hell yea. My ratty camo shorts, my usual B.B.'s tank-top, and flip flops.
As I watched them file by, I thought 'these are MY people', I don't belong up here where everyone is drinking wine and/or champagne.
And I watched as they went by, hoping to make eye contact to let them know I am only here because of 9.5 pounds.
Most would not look at me, the ones that did gave me the 'stink eye'. I began to feel a bit down.
But then the guy handed me my next beer!
I stretched out in my big ass leather chair, slurped my free beer and said 'fuck it, this is the only way to fly'.
Then something weird happened.
My personal waiter came by and handed me a steaming hot towel using a pair of tongs?
What the fuck am I to do with this?
Figuring I may as well take advantage of the whole experience, I went ahead and washed my pits as I had been doing some serious hiking thru 2 airports by now, didn't want to offend my new flying partners.
He came and took my grungy towel and another beer came out of no where.
Next he was asking me if I wanted to try their grilled chicken with pasta salad.
I leaned out into the isle, glanced back at my former flying mates back in the sardine section, and told the man 'yes, that would be fine, Jeeves'. ( I assumed his name was Jeeves)
The chicken dinner came along with a free movie, and was great. The movie sucked tho.
The rest of the flight was very nice. Jeeves would check the level of my beer each time he passed by and would return with a fresh one when needed.
Then as we were making our 'final decent' into BZ city, I got to thinking. I had now downed about 5 beers and am looking ahead that I will be standing round waiting on Immigration, then luggage, then customs with not much of a chance to off-load any of this beer. Better go now.
This portion of the flight is where they get real cranky about anyone leaving their seat.
Not up front.
I got up and was making my way to the forward head when I see Jeeves open the door and hold it for me.
After we land and begin unloading, I am one of the first off the plane, First in the citizen line at immigration, and my duffle bag showed up right away! Too smooth, I was at Jet's drinking my next beer in no time.
But, when I reached home, I got an ass chewin for spending 129$.
We are not secure enough to be flying first class, but I felt justified.
Now Mrs. Barn sez she will fly 1st class next trip and she sez she will be doing it for free.
we'll see.
In dog beers, I only had 2.
I had smooth flights to Houston and on into Denver, even tho I was seated in the Sardine section.
When I got there, my pile-o-goodies was waiting. a good size stack of boxes about 3 1/2 feet high, and 3 feet wide. Once all were opened and void of packing pads, it all fit into my rolling duffle no problem.
I'll cover all that in awhile. but first let me describe my trip back.
I began to get a bit worried about my bag about 6 days into the trip. It was nowhere near full, but I felt I was bumping up into my 50# weight limit. (pricks can haul the space shuttle all over but I only get 50lbs?)
Finally, I devised a plan.
If the bag did weigh more than the allowed 50#'s, I would remove the spare camera bag packed inside and load it with shit till I reached 50#'s. Then use the camera bag as my other carry-on.
Well bigger than shit, I weighed in at 59.5. Uh oohhhh.
Out comes the camera bag, but for the life of me I could not get 9.5 pounds of shit into it!
Fuck.
Now I see they want to charge me 200$ for the overweight bag!
Fuck.
Looking into it further I see I can upgrade to 'Business class' for 129$ and they get a 70# bag limit!
What would you do?
That's what I thought, I upgraded too.
But for reasons known only to the airlines, I was only upgraded for the flight from Houston to Belize?
The Denver to Houston flight I was back in the Sardine section again, sharing an isle with a cute young girl and a some other schmo.
But come time to board in Houston, I was the first swinging dick on the plane!
Sat my happy ass down in seat 3B and was immediately handed a cold beer!
The 'front' of the plane never did fill up and soon the Sardines began to arrive.
Did I feel out of place? Oh hell yea. My ratty camo shorts, my usual B.B.'s tank-top, and flip flops.
As I watched them file by, I thought 'these are MY people', I don't belong up here where everyone is drinking wine and/or champagne.
And I watched as they went by, hoping to make eye contact to let them know I am only here because of 9.5 pounds.
Most would not look at me, the ones that did gave me the 'stink eye'. I began to feel a bit down.
But then the guy handed me my next beer!
I stretched out in my big ass leather chair, slurped my free beer and said 'fuck it, this is the only way to fly'.
Then something weird happened.
My personal waiter came by and handed me a steaming hot towel using a pair of tongs?
What the fuck am I to do with this?
Figuring I may as well take advantage of the whole experience, I went ahead and washed my pits as I had been doing some serious hiking thru 2 airports by now, didn't want to offend my new flying partners.
He came and took my grungy towel and another beer came out of no where.
Next he was asking me if I wanted to try their grilled chicken with pasta salad.
I leaned out into the isle, glanced back at my former flying mates back in the sardine section, and told the man 'yes, that would be fine, Jeeves'. ( I assumed his name was Jeeves)
The chicken dinner came along with a free movie, and was great. The movie sucked tho.
The rest of the flight was very nice. Jeeves would check the level of my beer each time he passed by and would return with a fresh one when needed.
Then as we were making our 'final decent' into BZ city, I got to thinking. I had now downed about 5 beers and am looking ahead that I will be standing round waiting on Immigration, then luggage, then customs with not much of a chance to off-load any of this beer. Better go now.
This portion of the flight is where they get real cranky about anyone leaving their seat.
Not up front.
I got up and was making my way to the forward head when I see Jeeves open the door and hold it for me.
After we land and begin unloading, I am one of the first off the plane, First in the citizen line at immigration, and my duffle bag showed up right away! Too smooth, I was at Jet's drinking my next beer in no time.
But, when I reached home, I got an ass chewin for spending 129$.
We are not secure enough to be flying first class, but I felt justified.
Now Mrs. Barn sez she will fly 1st class next trip and she sez she will be doing it for free.
we'll see.
In dog beers, I only had 2.
1 comment:
Welcome back Barn,
Great you had a good trip. But I think you got your math backward. If 1 people year = 7 dogs years, I think 1 people beer would equal probably 5 to 7 dog beers. So you actually had 25 to 35 dog beers or so. But after 20 to 28, I personally start losing count.
BTW, unload in the Gents area to the left of the Incoming Duty-Free store in the baggage area.
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