2006-12-04 09:54![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
digitaldiscipline
digitaldisciplineThat would be airport code ATL, Atlanta Hartsfield Int' Airport, right in its mechanical ear.
I have no idea where our outbound plane from TPA->ATL was coming in from, but AirTran knew it was going to be ~25 minutes late before K & I even left the house on Saturday. ATL is their hub. It is reasonable to expect that the airline should communicate "We've got a hundred or so people making connections, let the gate crews know."
Yeah, right.
K & I did a passable impersonation of OJ Simpson (the Hertz Ad version, not the Brentwood) in hauling ass from the end of one concourse, through the tunnel, and halfway up another, in order to make a flight that had originally allowed us a 50 minute layover in something like seven minutes. It was nearly as close a call as departing from C10, when our ride to the airport took a circuitous route, and we had to hurdle over![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gavinsca at the security line and sprint past trid on the way to hollering "HOLD THAT PLANE" just as the jetway was about to be shut on us.
On the way back, ATL/AT managed to mislay some maintenance paperwork. For an hour. Just what we wanted to do after a whirlwind visit - sit in a fucking airport.
Yes, this is trivial relative to the weather-related clusterfuck of Thursday & Friday, I'm sure, but these were fuckups without any cause but human stupidity, and I'm less forgiving and sympathetic of that. When we can control the weather, I'll hold people responsible for it.
The visit itself was, in the main, not too bad, but deeply marred by my brother-in-law's brother's eldest spawn being one of the worst-behaved three year olds I've ever had the misfortune to share space with. He kicks his not-quite year old brother in the head. Hits him with toys. Tries to open the birthday girl's presents (EVERY ONE OF THEM) despite admonitions from no fewer than six(!) adults that they Are Not His. "Aiden, NO," is going to be the sonic wallpaper of the home video. He blew out the candles on the cake despite being told not to. And whenever he feels like he isn't getting his way, he does a passable MacAulay Culkin impression, mashing his hands to the sides of his face and opening his mouth in some kind of mute mutant variant of ZOMG LIFE IS NOT LOVING TO ME NOW PRZ.
This week will suck less.
I have no idea where our outbound plane from TPA->ATL was coming in from, but AirTran knew it was going to be ~25 minutes late before K & I even left the house on Saturday. ATL is their hub. It is reasonable to expect that the airline should communicate "We've got a hundred or so people making connections, let the gate crews know."
Yeah, right.
K & I did a passable impersonation of OJ Simpson (the Hertz Ad version, not the Brentwood) in hauling ass from the end of one concourse, through the tunnel, and halfway up another, in order to make a flight that had originally allowed us a 50 minute layover in something like seven minutes. It was nearly as close a call as departing from C10, when our ride to the airport took a circuitous route, and we had to hurdle over
gavinsca at the security line and sprint past trid on the way to hollering "HOLD THAT PLANE" just as the jetway was about to be shut on us.On the way back, ATL/AT managed to mislay some maintenance paperwork. For an hour. Just what we wanted to do after a whirlwind visit - sit in a fucking airport.
Yes, this is trivial relative to the weather-related clusterfuck of Thursday & Friday, I'm sure, but these were fuckups without any cause but human stupidity, and I'm less forgiving and sympathetic of that. When we can control the weather, I'll hold people responsible for it.
The visit itself was, in the main, not too bad, but deeply marred by my brother-in-law's brother's eldest spawn being one of the worst-behaved three year olds I've ever had the misfortune to share space with. He kicks his not-quite year old brother in the head. Hits him with toys. Tries to open the birthday girl's presents (EVERY ONE OF THEM) despite admonitions from no fewer than six(!) adults that they Are Not His. "Aiden, NO," is going to be the sonic wallpaper of the home video. He blew out the candles on the cake despite being told not to. And whenever he feels like he isn't getting his way, he does a passable MacAulay Culkin impression, mashing his hands to the sides of his face and opening his mouth in some kind of mute mutant variant of ZOMG LIFE IS NOT LOVING TO ME NOW PRZ.
This week will suck less.
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As for the spawn, I'd have been hard put not to turn the kid over my knee. That's just me though.
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Just beat the children, then they will be to scared to misbehave.
That and it will give them interesting interests when they get older :)
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