Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s not what you think. I can already feel my mom cringing as she prepares to read this posting. Relax. It’s not dirty. It’s not raunchy. And it’s not naughty.
A colleague who has given birth manages to tell me how lucky I am not to have to endure an actual birthing labor. Hers lasted a whopping 8 hours. I say whoop-dee-do-da, mine is going to last 28 hours - and that’s just the ride to the metaphorical hospital.
Let me explain why my labor pains will be more uncomfortable.
Her: Oh sweet, my water broke. Honey, get the car and have the air conditioner on high. Ohhh.. I just love this SUV. So roomy that even my big belly has elbowroom.
Me: ShitShitShitShit. How can this flight to Istanbul be full?!? OH HELL TO THE NO… I’m stuck in the middle seat for 20 frigging hours.
Her: Thanks for the wheelchair. Honey, you need to wheel me to our private room. Check in is so easy, how thoughtful. I’m going to get out of my clothes and put on my robe.
Me: Quit pushing me, a**hole. This security line isn’t moving and pushing me isn’t going to make it move faster. BeepBeepBeep (sounds of the metal detector). Seriously, Mr. Homeland Security Officer, I don’t know why the detector keeps going off. I’ve already taken off my shoes, socks, belt, pants and shirt. In fact, I’ve taken off my dignity as well in this line.
Her: Ohlala... I feel a nice breeze when my feet are in the stirrups.
Me: Ay ya ya.. the seats are only 18 inches wide. My ass has no freaking wiggle room on the plane. I’m suffocating. My knees are smashed together. My seatmates are both smelly and over 300 lbs. Oh geez.. someone farted.
Her: Honey, more ice chips please.
Me: dingdingding (furiously pressing the Attendant button): I really need a glass of water. I couldn’t bring anything to drink on the plane. You know, with it being illegal and all. No really.. I don’t want to wait another hour until the beverage tray reaches my row. I’m thirsty now. I’m about to pass out. I'm breathing rancid air.
Her: Ohhh… I can adjust the bed so my head is elevated and/or my feet are.
Me: The seat moves 2 inches into a ‘reclining’ position. Dammit… if that guy puts his dandruffed head on my shoulders again, I’m elbowing him awake.
Her: Dear God, thank you for blessing me with these comforts.
Me: (seatmate turning to me and asking me before take-off of a 20 hour flight) Ma’am, Have you found Jesus?
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5 comments:
If we fly I am taking Uzbekistan Airways and flying business class to/from JFK. I fly coach every month for business and have paid my dues!
Once again you have the funniest post! Thanks for making me laugh again!
OMG, that was priceless! Thank you.
(yes, business class all the way home)
That does nothing for my confidence for a smooth and peaceful flight this Saturday. :) Oh, and I think of business class as an epidural for our metaphorical deliveries - definitely worth it.
To funny! But, I can't complain to much about our trip to Vietnam I was gorked out of my mind on pills and slept about 18 of our 24 hour trip.
I would like to take a moment and thank who ever came up with Ambien.
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