It may not come as a shock that a control freak like myself with severe anxiety problems is a shitty traveler. I truly do not trust in the organizational skills of others and this causes my human a lot of stress. Also suffering from a generalized anxiety disorder means that pretty much everything causes me to flip out to some degree. Sometimes I wish I had a specific anxiety or phobia related to gazelles or peeing in public but no, I need to flip about everything. And it is bloody exhausting let me tell you, especially at 5:30am Cuban time.
This little tale follows my adventures in leaving Cuba. I feel I need to preface it by saying that on vacation, once it is time to go home I want to be home NOW and have zero patience for the needs and desires of others.
The Cuban airport is a hot mess. It is about as organized as a retierment party
put together by a sealion. I've never known an airport to completely
shut down at night, Never mind one in a country who's main source of
income is tourists. But whatever Cuba. You dance to the beat of your
own drummer. Upon arival, the "staff" behind the counter seemed
confused as to why the hell people were there. Newsflash, maybe we
want to get on a fucking plane. Crazy.I know. I detest waiting of any variety and lines are my least favorite if I was to make a list. Albeit at this time I was second in line, I was still horribly displeased. I hate waiting on others to get their shit together. I really do, If someone who's mental state resembles a psychological crime scene at the best of times can be organized, I expect it of others. Once the asshole at the desk got us checked in we went to the "cafeteria" and got a can of Pringles for breakfast and proceeded to security.
Upon going through "security" things got stressful! Everyone is trying to explain that my extra sunblock is not going to make it through security and proceeds
to flip out. Let me explain, this is an airport that opens for the day
ok? Clearly it's priorities are not on par with international
standards. As everyone proceeds to flip shit I toss my bag,lipglosses
and liquids a stray,on the xray and walk through. Then I collected my
belongings. This is exactly what went down. I couldn't decide if this
was trusting or stupid, but it got me on my way so I wasn't concerned.
The waiting area is on par with a second world mall. Horribly
disorganized . Upon trying to decide what damn gate we were, we
realized they do not provide such information to travellers as to how
to get the fuck out of this airport. Excellente. This has become my new
catch phrase because it can be so easily meaningful and sarcastic
while expanding my Spanish skills Dora the explorer style. The boys
decided to discuss their bowel situation at length and informed us
ladies that they needed to "destroy some porcelain". 2 minutes after
they left for the bathroom they had come back defeated saying none of the
stalls have toilet paper, this is common in Cuba so none of us were
shocked. After watching them fuss and fidget I finally went into the
ladies room to retreive some. I rolled out about as much as one would
need to wipe an elephant and trotted back to our little home base. In
the year and a half I've known Mancandy,he's never actually looked SO
elated to see me. The look on his face was simmilar to the one I'm
sure Kate Middelton had when Wills finalllllly proposed. Like a facial
fist pump. The boys went off to do their thing and strode back content
as clams. This over agressive reaction to toilet paper taught me
something about the male race: much like with babys,
constipation=cranky. Or to get Freudian about it, men are permanently
stuck in the anal phase of development,and will never reach a higher
psychosocial stage of development. Platypus has always told me men are
either simple or stupid or both, this Is her evidence.
When an hour later the Cuban airport seemed to have come around to it "organized" self, it was still a hot mess. I could no longer bare the stupidity and decided to
medicate. Seriously, they do this once a week, at least, by this point
I expect it to be a well oiled machine. If I was in charge I could
have that shit in shape in 2 days I will tell you that. Organization
and clarity are good friends of mine. Those of us with anxiety
disorders need this sort of coordination otherwise we tend to go
postal. Haha you wana see a hot mess? THAT is a hot mess.
When we finally boarded our plane we found our seats, and were hit
with yet another disaster. Some individual,who did not show any
immediate sign of being mentally retarted was in Mancandy's window seat. This
smallish east Indian chick had taken it upon herself to select her
prefered seating. Mancandy has enough issues in standardized seating
as is so any time people on planes take it upon themselves to be
comfortable with no regard for others, I tend to go a bit balistic.
Especially cuz he's too mellow to say anything then is agrivated by
the circumstances for the rest of the trip. I however, lack this
filter that allows fools to do as they please. I do not find them cute
and do not suffer them gladly. But he refuses to let me in my sweetest
most caring angel voice ask the bitch to vacate and return to her
correct searing. Just cuz you didn't get to sit next to your bff
doesn't mean you can take my boyfriends seat to accomidate yourself. I
had half a mind to sit next to her and rip ass for the rest of the
flight but I'd like to continue a sexual relationship with my
boyfriend who is seated next to me. But really people who does that???
The browns that's who. Sometimes I wonder why I don't just tell people
what I'm thinking of them, then I remembered I poped an Ativan before
the flight and that I no longer cared. As I'm writing this,a small
child began crying on my 6 hour flight and I may need to break out into
other antipsychotic options in order to get out of this alive.
While we were waiting to take off on our flight I couldn't help but notice how retarded the flight attendant looked attempting to demonstrate how the plane allows you to look like a total asshole in a safety situation. At this time, I started thinking about a career in flight attending and came up with this list:
Why I'd make a shitty flight attendant.
1.I hate planes in general,they're dirty and smell.
2. Being an attendant means not being in control of the plane and
although being a passanger isn't better, standing in the isles without
a seatbelt is worse.
3. You have to be perky and plesant and smile at people getting on
with a baby about to make sure your work day comes with a migrane. I
as a traveller may glare,although rude in some circles.
4. Wearing the same thing every day would not allow me to take full
advantage of my trully kick ass wardrobe.
5. If I decide I've had enough of my surroundings, which happens
often, I cannot easily jump ship.
6. Im somewhat claustrophobic and most airplanes are the size of a jumbo size tampon.
As I'm typing this installment on the plane, seat stealers bff is
sitting infront of us and has decided to start loudly flirting with
the DJ next to her while his plane comrade is passed out next to him.
I only know he's a DJ because at that octive,information is hard to
miss. People astound me sometimes with their crazyness. Haha now she's
explaining to dumdum how tips work... Goood lord. 1 hour 45 minutes left on this god
forsaken airplane. Seat stealers bff is having what I can only deduce
as the loudest conversation to ever take place on a plane. I myself,
am known as a loud individual. Mostly when I'm drunk. I feel because
I'm tiny I need to make sure people are aware I'm here,but this bitch
has no excuse. To give the reader an update on the DJ she's Been
flirting with for 4 hours and 15 minutes now, he's a Ginger, and he
has a handlebar on his face not dissimilar to the colonel himself. I
am not exadurating. This guy is a mess. Oh and also, he thinks he's a
gangster, obviously. This situation really needs a seatbelt. And
clearly the one on this aircraft is not sufficient. On a worse note, I
beleive I went to highschool with seat stealers bff. Only in the hot
disaster that's been my day would this occur. "AHAHAHAH!!" she screams as a result of some dumb thing this douche just said. fuck. I swear if this chick tosses her hair and laughs one more time I'm bout to pop a cap in her ass. "not the story I just told you,I was 13, ah
this is good.." seriously. These 2 people should not be speaking.
She's one of those dumb girls who thinks she IS the greatest thing
ever,and he's a g'd up Ginger colonel saunders. Am I the only person
alive that thinks these people need to stay as far apart as possible?
My iPod lacks a "holy shit stop fucking talking for 5 damn minutes"
setting for volume to accomidate your loud sexual misguidedness. So zip it! Got it? K
good.
Since the crapfest airline I wound up on played one movie for a 6 hour
flight , and I cannot shoot myself, I decided to continue to doccument
the worst courtship known to mankind.
They have now removed their communal arm rest, this is a huge step.it
communicates to those around them that they are "intimate". I know
this because Mancandy refuses to remove ours incase we happen to touch
as a result. He claims not to be clousterphobic but the valiant effort
he put into not sharing any space with me physical,air,armrest or
otherwise with me on an aircraft tells me and most psychiatrists
differently. At this time we must also note that colonel asshat is
infact sharing his armrest with his friend.
2:11pm - we learn douchefella rents an accerage from his dad slightly
outside the city. What a classy SOB. His very own spot on daddys
land!!! Cuz I can tell he's a farmer type,likes to get dirt under his
nails... My panties are wet, I dunno about you guys ;)!
2:14pm - the odd couple is discussing the cropping of canine ears.
Apparently this is news to douche and he is flabergasted that this
exists. I took a break from crazyness to check in with Augustana on my
iPod. But when I returned he was explaining how they cut tails off
kids and stuff.... This guy is a CATCHHH!! You go girl!!!!
2:34pm - clearly the odd couple has broken up but, in other exciting
news, there's a battle of the babies in the isle. The two are staring
at eachother fascinated!! If my sibling was here she would pee
herself. My sibling is bonkers for babies. BONKERS. One baby craped
itself. And the battle ended. Orange baby 1. Blue baby 0. Maybe next
time blue baby.... Maybe next time.
2:54pm- Missy has woken up from her nap and is explaining to douche in
detail how falling asleep with gum in her mouth feels. And then
explaining to him how to sleep effectively on a plane. Seriously
folks. This is the riveting conversation on my homebound flight. Also,
when I begin an airplane trip I set a timer on my phone so I have a
countdown of exactly how much longer I need to suffer. I keep checking
it which drives mancandy nuts. I explained I could ask him every 5
minutes as to how much longer, but this is easier and less annoying
for everyone. Especially those of us with anxiety/control/crappy math
skill issues.
2:59pm - douche is discussing his moustache growing skills! Why anyone
with red hair would want to add more red hair to their body I have NO
fucking clue. Also, he breifly rapped about it. People, I am legit
not making this up.
3:02pm - we learn asshat has a severe sunburn. Miss thang offers to
rub some on him if she had any on her. "I freckle, but I notice I
don't normally have so many"... Well newsfash dipshit you're a Ginger.
Your hair and sun tan skills are an epic fail.
Then we finallllllllly landed at home and I proceeded to rush Mancandy to customs, I don't trust the organizational skill of others and so I like to be first in line to avoid waiting for other stupid people to get their shit together. The fact that I lose my shit at almost every point in the travel process is just another reason why my life is NOT together.
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