jetBlows is more like it.
Cheap seats, 35 channels of DirecTV in the seat back in front of you, leather seats, no baggage fees. All good things, indeed.
However, cheap travel also brings with it a glorious collection of retards and nitwits that would, without jetBlue (and AirTran, et al.) be doggin' it.
As I boarded my flight this morning--a short hop from one Northeast airport to another Northeast airport--I endured (albeit with 35 channels of DirecTV in the seat back) the twentysomething couple next to me who attacked each others faces like a ravenous wolverines attacking a...well, whatever ravenous wolverines attack. I might have suggested that the two lust birds get a room; but, that seemed redundant since she had her own pillow.
Now, The Lifeguard is not one to judge anyone (well, yes, I am); but, who in the crikey fuck brings a pillow on a plane? (Especially one that quite clearly doesn't have a clean pillow case and the 3000 threadcount linens that The Lifeguard prefers.)
Across the aisle, the African couple, complete with native headdress and obviously fake gold jewelry, sat down to enjoy their repast of goat fritters and emu egg omelets. The smell--which is to say "stench"--of their sustenance polluted the cabin air for the duration of the short flight. I am rather certain that their carry-on bag contained the family chickens and a small collection of native herbs and plants (or, what passes for health care in Sub-Saharan Africa).
Finally, The Lifeguard was forced to endure the indignity of the day sans Starbucks (since The Lifeguard flat out refuses to drink Pike's Blend), or a tall glass, filled with ice, Grey Goose, and tomato juice.
Fuck, the flight for the next leg of my journey is now being called.
Although The Lifeguard is traveling, The Lifeguard is back.
Regular posting resumes today.
(And, as my friend J might ask: "Are ya busy?")