by Pa Rock
Winged Warrior
My dream is to live someplace where I can travel in comfort, with a modicum of dignity, without being subjected to the thievery and barbarism of airlines and airports. Someplace close to an Amtrak station would suit my needs. Of course, if the Koch-head brother succeed in buying the election, President Romney will sell Amtrak's trains to China and turn its tracks over to the military!
I am at Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, a bastion of suffering and indignity. The first issue was my assigned window seat that I wanted to trade for one on the aisle. There was one aisle seat left, on an exit row (which meant I could wind up working for the airline in the event of an emergency), and the sweet lady at ticketing told me that I could have it for the bargain price of just twenty-five dollars. I told her to keep her aisle seat.
The next obstacle was the baggage-check. I had one small bag to check, an heirloom of my father's. As it was being tagged, the baggage lady told me that would be twenty-five dollars! That was my penance for not forking over the dough to the first bandit.
Then, of course, was the worst experience of all in most airports - dealing with the bullies and small-town-cop wannabes who work for the Transportation Security Administration, commonly referred to as the "TSA," among other things. After I had gotten everything conceivable into their plastic tubs, I started to step through the X-ray when I realized that my wallet was still in my pocket. I politely asked the uniformed Komodo Dragon if I needed to place it in the tubs. A "yes" or "no" question, right? She snarled (spittle emanating from her oral cavity - the whole bit) that I needed to read the sign!
Yes, ma'am - bitch.
On a more positive note, it has now been almost five years since personnel at Sky Harbor have killed a passenger - at least as far as I know - but I have been gone for two years!
Soon I will be in Portalnd, Oregon, one of the most progressive cities in the United States with an exceptional airport. These sandbillies could learn a lot from Portland, but learning is not a priority in Jan Brewer's Arizona.
Winged Warrior
My dream is to live someplace where I can travel in comfort, with a modicum of dignity, without being subjected to the thievery and barbarism of airlines and airports. Someplace close to an Amtrak station would suit my needs. Of course, if the Koch-head brother succeed in buying the election, President Romney will sell Amtrak's trains to China and turn its tracks over to the military!
I am at Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, a bastion of suffering and indignity. The first issue was my assigned window seat that I wanted to trade for one on the aisle. There was one aisle seat left, on an exit row (which meant I could wind up working for the airline in the event of an emergency), and the sweet lady at ticketing told me that I could have it for the bargain price of just twenty-five dollars. I told her to keep her aisle seat.
The next obstacle was the baggage-check. I had one small bag to check, an heirloom of my father's. As it was being tagged, the baggage lady told me that would be twenty-five dollars! That was my penance for not forking over the dough to the first bandit.
Then, of course, was the worst experience of all in most airports - dealing with the bullies and small-town-cop wannabes who work for the Transportation Security Administration, commonly referred to as the "TSA," among other things. After I had gotten everything conceivable into their plastic tubs, I started to step through the X-ray when I realized that my wallet was still in my pocket. I politely asked the uniformed Komodo Dragon if I needed to place it in the tubs. A "yes" or "no" question, right? She snarled (spittle emanating from her oral cavity - the whole bit) that I needed to read the sign!
Yes, ma'am - bitch.
On a more positive note, it has now been almost five years since personnel at Sky Harbor have killed a passenger - at least as far as I know - but I have been gone for two years!
Soon I will be in Portalnd, Oregon, one of the most progressive cities in the United States with an exceptional airport. These sandbillies could learn a lot from Portland, but learning is not a priority in Jan Brewer's Arizona.
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