A conversation held in the Newark airport after being delayed for the fourth time.
Adrian: The gate agents still won’t tell me why the plane is delayed for so long. They just keep telling me, “It’ll be here when it gets here.”
Noa: It’s something really ridiculous, and they just don’t want to say it.
Adrian: I think the pilot is just super hung over and they have to keep feeding him ice chips to keep him going. Still though, he’d be here by now with autopilot right?
Noa: I bet they’re not telling us that the planes are actually sentient beings, and ours is just having a really bad breakdown and refuses to come to Newark.
Adrian: Really? That’s what you automatically go to? The planes are sentient, and clearly a nervous breakdown is causing our delay?
Noa: I bet the plane is just sitting on the runway in North Carolina and is all, “I’m sorry Mike, I just can’t do it again. You remember what happened last time in Newark.” And Mike is all, “I know Henry. I remember what that American Airlines jet said to you, but that guy’s a prick. Don’t let the bastards get you down.”
Adrian: Who’s Mike?
Noa: The pilot. They’re good friends.
Adrian: Of course they are. Mike regularly gets inside Henry–they’d be friendly.
Noa: Henry has a wife. How dare you imply that he’s unfaithful with Mike. You’re being really denigrating considering Henry is in the middle of an existential crisis right now.
Adrian: Whoa, what?
Noa: Henry just put it together that he’s being paid to be penetrated by so many people every day for the benefit of Mike. Henry feels so betrayed, and his wife is so disgusted with him for selling out like that.
Adrian: What kind of plane is his wife?
Adrian: How does a plane sell out exactly?
Noa: Henry could have spent his life with Virgin, but he chose Southwest and so now he’ll never get to go to space. His wife is pretty disappointed in his career choices, but Henry’s always held up well until now.
Adrian: When the American jet roughed him up.
Adrian: His mother in law must be so shitty about it. I bet she’s married to the Space Shuttle, and told her daughter to do the same.
Noa: Seems possible. I could make a Columbia Shuttle/University joke here, but I think it’s in poor taste.
Adrian: I bet they have a whole hangar full of ultra-lights and Henry just can’t face them tonight.
Noa: See, now you’re getting it. It’s a whole secret society that the airline industry isn’t telling us about. They’re all just really organized pimps and the shitty thing is that no one even knows they’re buying a plane-stitute.
Adrian: Or maybe…
Adrian: Maybe they’re all just planes.
Noa: Fuck you. You’re just embarrassed that you’ve been caught buying sex from a 747.
Adrian: You’re fucking weird.
I can never have good luck on airplanes. Help me feel a little better–what’s your worst airplane/airport story?– Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From Todd: “Holy shit… if Confucius is a “Ching Chong Charlie,” it makes you wonder what other gems they’re teaching their children… “That Ghandi was one skinny Indian. Not casino Indian, but Slurpee Indian. Can you say Slurpee Indian?” “Galileo was one sciency wop.” “Jefferson Davis was a narrow minded redneck fuck.” Hmm… no, not the last one.”