How many employees do you know who are happy to be at work at 5:00 AM in the morning – on a Saturday no less? Not too many I am sure. But the three folks at the bakery in O’Hare Airport appear to know how to have a good time; even that early in the day.
I had just deplaned from the first leg of the red-eye back to CT from the west coast. I needed coffee. I was also hungry. One of the three workers offered to take my order. He also read the “Are You Done Whining” embroidered on the front of my cap and remarked how he needed to get one for his wife. I chuckled. The woman working with him informed me she was his wife. The two of them then proceeded to go off on a back and forth banter. It was quite amusing. It was also clear they were not married. It was very clear they had done this little routine before and I was appreciative of the fact that at 5:00 AM in the morning – on a Saturday – someone wanted to amuse their customers. So I played along for a few moments. I grabbed my coffee and bagel, thanked them for the early morning fun, and told them to keep up that routine; travelers will appreciate it.
Sitting in the terminal trying to keep my eyes open I was suddenly awakened by a shrieking voice. It was probably the highest pitch, whiniest voice I had ever heard. EVER! In contrast to that deep voice I describe in my Permission To Speed program.
Her day had just been totally ruined. The people at the bagel store got her order wrong. This “husband” and “wife” were so busy arguing that they couldn’t even get a bagel order right. What idiots they were. She ordered this type of bagel and they gave her that one. They over-toasted it. The Shrieker was beyond crazed. Her boyfriend/husband/travel partner was listening to her go off. I was thinking “could you please duct tape that shriek.” Then he made the remark that didn’t surprise me at all. He said “What do you expect from people who can only get a job in a bagel store in the airport?”
Ouch. Judging people based on their job. At this point I looked to my left. I needed to see what these two looked like. They spent the next ten minutes trashing the lowlife scum who worked in the O’Hare bagel store. I should have gotten up and moved to another terminal (I’m not kidding about the voice), but I was exhausted from being up almost twenty-four hours.
There was a dog in the terminal. The dog was going to be on my flight. Hooray! I love dogs. This dog was small enough to fit in a carrier under the seat in front of the passenger; although I think dogs should be allowed to purchase a seat. It was a cute dog. I mustered up enough strength to go meet the dog. I forgot the dog’s name. Hey, it was 5:45 in the morning. Hey dog owners, did you ever notice we ask people their dog’s name but not their name?
About midway between Chicago and Hartford this sudden odor traveled forward from the back of the small regional commuter plane. Yep, Rover had an accident. Looks like it was going to be an interesting remaining hour on the plane. Perhaps we will get to use the oxygen masks that pop out of the ceiling? Not that I ever want to have a need for them, but how do we really know they will pop out of the ceiling if a sudden change of cabin pressure occurs?
Well as quick as the odor came, the odor went. Wow! Obviously the pet owners have experienced this before. Cleanup and disposal happened in a heartbeat.
Something else also happened in a heartbeat. That voice came back; this time going on and on about how animals shouldn’t be allowed on planes and how this wasn’t fair to the rest of us, and that she was going to call the airline when she returned home. Now what really wasn’t fair to the rest of us was being subjected to that voice. The emergency exit was looking like a viable alternative at this moment. That would be me jumping out, not pushing her out. Anything to escape the shriek three rows ahead of me in seat 4C. She eventually quieted down. I got one of those glances across the aisle from the guy next to me; one of those thank god she shut up. I’m really not kidding about the voice. I would go to a doctor and get it fixed – at all cost. I would hold a fundraiser if need be.
The flight landed uneventfully – no more shrieking or pooping.
Standing at the luggage carousel in Hartford I saw them – good thing I took that mental note. Believe it or not she was going on about the bagel again. I grabbed my luggage. As I walked by them I couldn’t resist………………………………time to have some fun………………….
I said to them, “You know, those people are the owners of that entire bagel chain and you should SEE the house they live in.”
Was it the truth? Who knows? Who cares? But couldn’t it be?