The Ultimate Friend Quiz!

I think I need new friends. When I say ‘new friends’ I actually mean I need friends. I don’t have friends. Like none. Seriously. I don’t have friends. Okay, I have a few. Which isn’t a bad thing because I am not a likable person. I tune people out and when a female comes to me with an issue with something, I tend to just nod say, “oh, yeah. I understand.” I don’t. I don’t understand. You women are complicated. Friendships are complicated. This is why I don’t have many friends and stick to being a loser loner. I don’t want this to become another rules to being my wife. I think I covered mostly everything but I am sure down the road I will think of something else and I will add more fuel to the fire when I degrade women. I am going to let you decide for yourself if you are awesome enough to be my friend.

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Nature Calls

We all have had this problem before. You’ve had a few too many drinks and now you need to use the facilities. You’re not home and the only place you have is the public restroom. What do you do!? You’re scared. Don’t worry. I am too. I’ve talked before about my fear of the public restrooms. There is something dirty about knowing that I am about to pee freely among other men. I hate restrooms. I will do all I can to not use them but sometimes I have to. Sometimes, nature calls and won’t stop till I answer.

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30,000 Feet And Nowhere To Go: Flight Three

I was leaving North Carolina and heading back home. I sat at the airport and waited. I didn’t run to the gate the instant I arrived. I sat alone and savored a cold drink (soda) before I walked down the line. A gentleman took a seat next to me. You know the bathroom etiquette? I shouldn’t say I don’t. I do but it has to be a life or death situation. I know to leave a space between urinals. I don’t know. By the way, the above links article says not to pee in a stall. Eff you. I have a urinal phobia. Not to mention, who knows if the fellow in the urinal next to me has a wandering eye.

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30,000 Feet And Nowhere To Go: Flight Two

I got off the plane and followed the signs to reach my gate. After weaving left and weaving right, I approached the gate. I sate down and turned my phone off airplane mode. I was pretty excited about that. I’ve never had the chance to use airplane mode until this trip. It was magical to say the least. Instantly, I received a voice mail. It was from a good friend wishing me a safe and happy trip. Even being on vacation away from work, that’s the first thing I thought of while I sat there waiting for the time to board the plane. I shot a text message to my boss. Guess all is good. They can survive without me. Hell won’t freeze over. That’s a sigh of relief.

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30,000 Feet And Nowhere To Go: Flight One

I have previously mentioned that I am somewhat of a germaphobe. I don’t like being touched. I hate shaking hands. I can’t leave out the constant coughing, sneezing, gagging, hacking, and all the others that fit into that category. I am sorry to say it but I must. You all have germs. If you’re part of my family, then hugging and shaking hands is okay. I will still cringe if you sneeze or cough around me. I am a healthy person. It’s you all that have the contagious, lethal virus inside of you. Not me. Those virus’ treat your body likes it their playground. I might be wrong. Maybe you’re never sick. Good for you. I know I am never sick. I have been sick before. I just don’t get sick or ill very often. As of today, I have been sick free for 2 years running. Aside from my anxiety attacks, I am healthy as a bouncing baby boy. How do I stay so healthy? Glad you ask. It’s simple. Cut off the world. I live alone and isolate myself from people. If you’re not around people, there is no chance you can be sick. I am not a true shut in. I do go out. I do have people over. I am over exaggerating a bit. I just rather not associate myself with people who resemble the cast of Cabin Fever. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

I should really get the point of this post. A few weeks ago, I got to ride in one of those airplanes. I don’t mind flying. It’s nice. I don’t like take off. I assume it’s the moment the wheels leave the ground that put me in a state of panic. I like landing. It means were back on the ground and all is safe. Putting the taking off and landing aside, the one thing that grinds my gears more than anything, is the people. God, how I hate being around random people. We are 30,000 feet in the air. We are all stuck inside a fast moving cylinder with nowhere to go. You could be like the playboy bunny and try to open the door mid flight but I really don’t advise that. Opening a door or some f**kin’ windows will not make the flight any better. It will end the flight (and your life) for sure. With nowhere to go, I am stuck with these people for the length of the flight. No telling what biological diseases these people have roaming inside them.

Everyone is on the plane for the same reason. They have someplace to be. We might be heading to the same destination but once we leave the terminal, we’re on our own. I have one place I’d rather be. That’s in the comfort of my own home. My home is my bubble. It’s my safe haven. I know I won’t catch the so-called super flu or will I succumb to the nasty swine flu. No squealin’ like a pig for this city boy. I don’t hate flying. I already explained my fear of take off to you. I just despise the people on the plane. My recent trip to see my brother, put my on an US AIRWAYS plane. Flight was fine. No issues. It was a tiny plane. Very cramped the plane it was. You all know the gag about the dozen of clowns coming out of a tiny ace car? That’s exactly what the flight felt like.

As I was on the flight, I met some interesting characters. They might be normal in their own mind but who is to say what normal truly is? I sat next to a very large woman on the way to my destination. She was already seated before me. I approached the aisle and stood there for a second. I looked at my ticket. She glared at me like it was an issue that I needed to take my seat. I am sorry you had that extra donut on the way to the airport this morning. But be courteous to others and let us take a seat. I messed around on my phone while she did the same. The plane took off and we were advised to turn of all electrical devices. I pulled out my notebook and went to writing while I waited for the word to listen to my music. While I wrote (in poor lighting I should add), she broke out a tasteless romance novel. I knew it was a romance novel cause of the beefy dude with his arms around a scantily clad woman. She pressed the button to shine some light. No luck. She presses it again. Still didn’t. One more time. It will work I bet. Nope. Nothing. She let out a deep sigh and looked at me like I was going to solve the problem. I know I am man and you’re woman but do you see a lightbulb or an electrician diploma in my hand? I don’t think so. It’s not working. You can only push the elevator button so many times. It’s not going to make the car come any faster. Deal. She paged the stewardess to come over. The two woman put what little brains they had together to solve the case of the century. After a few pushes of the button, they came to the conclusion that the light was not working. Awesome work, ladies. You really cracked this case. The flight attendant apologized for the light being out of order and walked away to attend to another passenger. She looked at me like she wanted me to agree with the anarchy we have to endure. It was as if she wanted her and I to lead some revolt and picket the plane like were members of the Westboro Baptist Church. I am not siding with you. I’m here to learn, not to make out with you. On with the chlorophyll. The lady scoffed loudly and tucked her romance novel between her arms and her rolls. She sat there and did nothing for  sometime. Really? Really!? You’re pouting? Grow up. I wished I were somewhere else just then. I blew her off and went back to my own little world. While she sulked, I sat there writing and listened to music on my phone.

The drink cart came by. I enjoyed a nice can of orange juice and she did the same. While her and I shared a drink, she busted into her over-sized (everything about her is overly sized) purse and pulled out some chex mix. I sipped on my drink. I kept myself. She tapped me on the shoulder. A cold chill crossed my body. I was frozen for what felt like hours. Having headphones on, I couldn’t hear her nor did I want to. She pointed to the bag and offered me some. I was hungry but I don’t want to eat food from a baggy you brought from home. I bet you laced it with something. I rather not end up missing my connecting flight and wake up in some dark well, screaming about putting lotion on the skin. Besides, you need the food way more than I do.

While the plane was readying itself for landing, I removed my headphones and glared out the window at the city below me. There was talk of a wedding some lady was going to. I found it funny that the person she was with was a priest. Did he fly in for the wedding? Was he to be a guest or is he the actual priest that was going to marry the couple she kept blabbing about. No lie. She was using a level 8. When I am out and about anywhere, I use a speaking level of 4. I don’t care about the wedding you’re going to. I don’t care that the weather is going to be perfect.

Overly loud woman: It’s going to be such a beautiful wedding.

Man: I know! With weather to match.

Double you slash e? These two people talked more. Her banter caught on and other passengers joined in with her discussion about the weather, weddings they have attended, and someone (i think it was the padre) talked about their childhood. The man talked about how he was the baby in the family and how he was the favorite and golden child. If it was the priest talking, he really took the golden child image to the max. Favorite son? Golden Child? And now a priest!? Your parents better love you. The gaggle of Chatty Kathy’s went on and on about their families and how they were this and that. I don’t remember what it was about but someone talked about their older brother and how they never got along till just recently. It wasn’t serious, at least I don’t assume it was. He laughed after the comment of, “we never got along when we were younger”. I know. Brothers fight. Some brothers make you stand on your hand in the corner of the room. Some stab you with a pitchfork. Some shoot you with a pellet gun. And some brothers handcuff you to a piano. We all got our things. Thankfully, this plane ride was a germ free one. It had germs but at least no one was coughing them up and spreading the diseases across state line. It was high time for me to book it. I don’t wanna be around chex mix lady and this talk about this double beautiful wedding is making me nauseous. Stepping off the plane and into the airport was only the beginning of three more flights. This was mild compared to the others. I should thank the holy man for making it a safe and virus free ride. He exorcised the demons from everyone. Thank you, father. You saved us all. To not ramble on and on with each and every person I encountered on my trip, I am breaking this post into a few. I will post part II tomorrow. I don’t think you would be up to reading a lengthy post. I tend to write long posts. Once I start writing, I can’t stop.