Airport nausea.

Airports are frightful habitats, and in many ways a microcosm of the human pantomime. Security and safety are paramount and supersede all other concerns, but my circus observations and accompanying litany of facepalms continue to mount.

The things I hate about airports:

1. The security Walter Mitty knock-off inspecting my cans of tuna as if they are weapons-grade plutonium.

2. Plebs running about like headless chickens in a large fridge freezer. You can see them physically panicking at the proposition of a departure board.

3. Shop checkout staff asking me where I’m going to. Are we friends? No. So it’s none of your fucking business where I’m going. Fuck off and just scan my chewing gum.

4. The smell. People reek. It’s an epidemic. It’s shocking how many folk haven’t grasped the basics of personal hygiene.

5. Ibiza-bound mutants – mostly obese, tattooed imbeciles in tacky clobber – screaming and swearing at their kids. I really feel sorry for the children because they’re basically disadvantaged from birth.

6. Smiling staff. Why are you beaming? It has to be an act. If I had your job I’d probably kill myself.

7. Folk with pets. Why do you have a large honking dog with you? Get that smelly hound away from me. It’s not cute and it’s not cool.

8. Boarding gate lies. You run up there as the departures board informs you it’s time to board. You arrive and your plane isn’t there. Why do they do this? It’s most irksome. Stop it.

Onboard havoc – the pain continues.

9. Reserved seating. What difference does it make where one sits? You get folk on the verge of a panic attack in their quest to identify their seat, racing up and down like the Road Runner on crack. I recall the good ol’ days of the budget airliner when you could sit anywhere. Bliss.

10. Obese and smelly passengers, conversely, should be allocated their own cordoned-off seating area with curtains (dangly air fresheners attached) lessening the impact of the smell. No one wishes to sit beside a hippo and all the trauma that entails – let them experience what we go through.

The horror. The horror.


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