Dad: So when I got to Kentucky, I unpacked my bags and I was brushing my teeth in the hotel room…
Me: yea?
Dad: But then, I realized there was something awry. The toothpaste was really, really white and tingly.
Me: Umm…
Dad: And you’re probably realizing now, what it took me about two more minutes to realize.
Me: Oh no….NO!
Dad: Oh, Yes. Preparation H.
Me: What? I thought you were gonna say Ben Gay. Come on, seriously?
Dad: I used an entire bottle of mouthwash, chewed a pack of gum, and a case of mints, but I couldn’t get that taste out of my mouth for about three hours.
Me: Did your tongue shrink?
Listen, even though I just shared a completely personal story with you at my father’s expense, that I might have promised I wouldn’t tell, there is still no excuse for my absence. I realize I dropped off the face of the earth recently. That is actually me in the picture above. And then, of course, after that happened, I required reconstructive surgery so that set me back another 3 weeks. I apologize.
So let’s see, what could we talk about? That time I got robbed by drug dealers cus I didn’t realize my boyfriend was a heroin addict? Nah. How about the time I decided to fly to Barcelona in the middle of the night on a broken toy plane? Winner!
While I was living in London, I did quite a bit of traveling around Europe. This was due partly to the fact that we had four day weekends, and the remainder of the week… I never went to class. I had an excess of time on my hands, so to speak. This guy I met in London, we’ll call him Lenny, was sort of like my London Kenny, or my long lost brother, or something. One night, we were sitting in the computer lab.
Lenny: Let’s go somewhere tonight.
Me: Like, a club?
Lenny: Like a country.
Me: Well, I have class tomorrow.
Lenny: ?
Me: Good point. Where do you want to go?
Lenny: I dunno. How about Barcelona?
Me: Eh, I’ve never been to Spain, sounds good.
Lenny: MMMk. I got us tickets for the red eye.
After being hurled over and ready to puke on the two hour bus ride that brought us to the airport, we were finally ready for lift-off. It’s 1 am, and I’m starving, nauseous, and pissed off. Plus, I’m deathly afraid of flying as it is. We sat there, strapped in, for about an hour.
Me: Um, why is the inside of this plane bright yellow and electric blue?
Lenny: It’s Ryan Air.
Me: It looks like a toy. Or IKEA. And this seat is like, plastic. Wait. Are we on a toy plane? Holy crapballs, I’m about to fly to Barcelona on a toy plane.
Listen, I’m not a technical genius, so I’ll go ahead and say they announced that the plane was broken.OH really? It was necessary for us to sit ON THE PLANE, while you examined it’s brokenness? Then, we needed to wait in line with all 300 people to get the tix refunded. We wait. We wait. Alas, the sun is coming up and they tell us the flight is cancelled – so we could get off.
Lenny: Here, you’re exhausted. Just sit down and I’ll wait in line for us.
I try to get food, but who knew NONE of the middle-eastern airport quickie marts are open in the middle of the night. I sit down on the only available seat, next to a portly man who was slowly falling asleep and smelt like the Dollar Menu. After a few minutes, he starts snoring. The snoring increases in volume until I start to lose my mind. Lenny looks at me from the line and can see the look of desperation and sheer disgust on my face. All the sudden, I completely lost it and burst out with inappropriate laughter, which I tend to do when I’m fasting, haven’t slept in two days, and sat on a plane all night in order to not go to Barcelona.
…And I kept laughing all the way home, while on the bus, where I almost ate Lenny’s arm and then threw up on the seat in front of me.
Other posts you should read:
Why I Hate Women: Oh Let Me Count The Ways
Quite a heart warming tale. Nothing raises spirits like a story about late night flights taken on a whim in broken airplanes. Oh yeah, and vomiting. Can’t forget that.
Also note to self: Do not brush teeth with Preparation H. However, it would be hilarious to get someone else to do it. Thanks for the tip.
1. my dad would be the only one who could ever do that and not notice. and then continue to do it for another minute
2. that was the most miserable night of my life.
well, it could have been worse my friend. You could have been mid air in the toy play after it had been sling shot out of the airport and it got broken mid air… so look on the bright side!
secondly, you got the money back on your tix and got a really funny story out of it.
thirdly, hang on im trying to think of it… you got to spend more time in London…
Shame on you for ratting dear dad out. What would Neil Diamond think??
fundamental- i don’t care, nor did i ever, nor will i ever give a rats @ss what neil diamond thinks about anything.
So I am on the mainland of Belize in a 6 seater plane going over to the island. Not a big fan of little planes like that anyway. Sitting right behind the pilot I notice that he is paging through a book while flying. It’s his instruction manual. HE IS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO LAND!!
haha bearman. i mean, when you think about it -it’s just like any other schooling. do you really think they pay attention when they’re learning all that crap? um, no.
I have flown on Ryan Air myself and be thankful you did not actually take flight. Everyone clapped enthusiastically during takeoff and landing as if it were not a given that we would survive the experience. The only flight experience worse was on a Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt to San Fran. The entire inside of the plane smelled like a bad curry nightmare. Depending on the situation, Europe is so overrated.
jen- i mean, europe is pretty awesome, depending on who you’re with and where you go. like any place, it has alot of lame parts. i hated france, personally, but some absolutely luuuurve it. yea i’ll never, ever ,ever consider taking the toy airline again.
Oh I remember you guys coming back and telling that story and I thought it was hilarious!!!! I love the ___ and ___ for the people you wanted to invite and he said no. That better have not been me haha. PS I finally read your London story in chicken soup..LOVED IT!
oh erica. how i miss thee. yea, i didn’t wanna insert their names, although they don’t read this anyway. i mean, i think renee dropped off the face of the earth!?
You write great funny stuff.
thanks suldog! glad i didn’t bore you to tears!
I’ve just started flying (on a plane) and, boy, am I glad I got my airline cherry popped before reading about your experience. I used to think that planes were like they were in the movies: all luxurious and spacious and quiet.
Ha! I didn’t know I’d be leaning firmly into the ribs of complete strangers. However I did get to sit beside a couple of really hot chicks once or twice and didn’t have to pay any extra. And I also got to join the Mile High Club all by myself(I’m not a team player).
So, I guess it wasn’t so bad after all. But I feel extremely sorry for you and your horrendous experience. I shall learn from it. The next time I journey from Virginia to Barcelona, I’m takin’ the bus.
haha. yea. i don’t suggest anyone use ryan air george. i mean, alot of people do in europe cus the flights are so short and cheap, but you know, the chances are 50/50 that you’ll actually survive
this reminds me of the time I slept in the unfinished airport in Split Croatia and woke up to machine guns in my face. I just started laughing really hard. The police didn’t think it was funny and really wanted to see my passport.
Did you ever make it to Spain- I mean not that night obviously but eventually?
thanks for the link-love! turns out jury says it was “probably worth it” but recommends 5 years probation.
yea, i did kevo. i went to madrid, ibiza, and mallorca. it was pretty sweet action, but i loved italy the best, of course.
probation from further knowledge?
Flying IKEA Air (or, excuse me, Ryan Air) sounds like a death sentence. You’re lucky if one of their shelving units lasts three years without fatally collapsing. I can’t even begin to imagine flying that timebomb across oceans. Ultimately, it’s the nervous anticipation of waiting for the engine to finally dislodge, and land in the middle of some backyard barbecue, or grandma’s living room.
Oh, and here’s a pre-emptive THANKS for the upcoming blogroller love. I’ll be in bumblefu<k until Monday night, with no internet.
haha MVD. thats hilarious. yea… um, IKEA must own that aircraft, cus really, the similarities are striking. cheap, blue, yellow, broken…
I have to apologize on my loss of focus on everything in this post that came after the words “Preparation H”. That is a scary, scary thought.
Seriously, tubes should only be allowed to contain toothpaste.
haha. sorry chris. i’ll lead in with a less disgusting story next time.
My flying stories are not funny–the last time, I was sure we were going down over Greenland. However…
I’m sitting in the back of a Greyhound bus and this brother comes all the way down from the front, plops down beside me and says, “I got GAS,man! That’s why I came back to sit with YOU!” I could appreciate his humanitarian gesture for the other passengers–but some misery should not be shared by ANY company.
haha. tim, thats kind of like what it was like sitting next to the bathroom on the bus. someone having gas, indefinitely.
so if your dad brushed his teeth with Preparation H, does that mean he put toothpaste on his piles?
oh nurse… i’ve missed you.