Could you be any slower?


I’m wedged into this seat. I have no clue which one it is as this is cattle call Southwest, an airline I’ve always hated since it had me wedged backward on my Californa hype deflation tour flight from LA to SF.

This time I’m in the middle seat thanks to the idiots at the Fells Point Brew Pub at BWI. If you wander through after me, be sure to give ’em a good kick, I should have. I had a coveted A boarding pass going into BWI, but then when hunger overrode thought, I found myself trying to get a sandwich in less than 20 minutes to make my boarding call. Fool I was.

There is no way that Fells Point Brew Pub’s waitress could get her thick head out of her ass long enough to take my order, much less make a whole sandwich in 20 minutes or less. No way in hell. Not with her training, straight from Raku is Crapu. As an added bonus, she even kept my credit card, only giving it to the gate agent after my plane left.

So do yourself a favor, go to the

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