Part 2 - Atlanta International Airport - The Seventh Gate of Hell OR My Connection

I don't really think this blog will be seven parts, but I seem to be dragging it ooooouuuuuttttt.

I learned a lesson in Atlanta.  If you have a very large piece of luggage that you don't want to pay Delta Airlines to check because you're cheap or because you think Delta is greedy, then simply bring it with you to the gate because as soon as the flight crew sees it they will check it for free!  In the four flights I took going and coming from the convention, I saw this happen over and over again.  In fact, I wanted to scream at the crew and the people both.  "YOU KNOW BETTER!  CHECK IT AT THE GATE, YOU CHEAP BASTARD!  And DELTA, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST TAKE ONE DAMN PIECE OF LUGGAGE FOR FREE, YOU GREEDY BASTARDS!"  But I didn't because I didn't want to meet the undercover air Marshall in an up-close and personal way.

I also learned another lesson at the Atlanta International Airport.  There is a website called People of Walmart.  See it just to get your brain wrapped around the context.  Oh the hell with I'll just use one of their pix so you can get a solid frame of reference for your head.

I don't know who the guy with the purple beard is but the other
one is really freaking me out.

Here's another one so you can really skip your cheerios this morning.

It's the what-were-they-thinking factor.

Okay, you're asking yourself, what does this have to do with the Atlanta airport?  I will tell you.  All the people from people of Walmart went to the Atlanta airport while I was there.  They were there.  Every one of them.  I counted.

Personal note to the 450 pound woman wearing the purple sparkling spandex with the fuzzy tube top: It's not a good look for you, dear.  I'm truly sorry but it didn't work.  (I didn't take a picture because although she outweighed me, I thought she looked like she could whup my butt into patootie cakes.)

Also to the woman wearing the six inch stiletto heels while running for her gate: You tripped because you were wearing the heels, not because the floor was uneven.  I don't think the security people had anything to do with your heels.  Next time try a flatter shoe.  Seriously.

Ah, but you're saying, "Surely, you exaggerate, fat woman."  Hahaha.  I do not.  There WAS a woman of rotund size (obviously I could not weigh her) wearing purple sparkling spandex with a fuzzy tube top.  I cannot say how much she weighs exactly but it was more than several hundred pounds.  There WAS also another woman wearing the heels running for a gate.  She tripped and I believe she might have broken her wrist.  As I was sitting there waiting on my plane, she did blame security for her mishap.  (Security wasn't anywhere around when she tripped.  Perhaps that's what her perceived problem was, that they didn't catch her when she fell.  Atlanta Airport Security, you worthless bleeps.)

Anyway, I took a picture of the ceiling tiles because I noticed that they had little airplanes on them.  The decorator, in his or her infinite wisdom, decided the people in the airport would undoubtedly look up and notice cute little planes on the tiles.  (I did.)

Bet you thought I was making that one up.

I caught other people looking at me looking up and who then looked up, too.  Pretty soon the whole section was looking up.  I started an airport trend.  You see, I was antsy and I had to do something.  Unfortunately I cannot sing well otherwise I would have started with show tunes.

I felt compelled to add a ceiling tile design
from the Charles Addams line.

Finally, I got on another plane, next to someone whom I can't really remember, except that the person did not want to talk.  (I remember that I said hi and the person said, "Nmrgh."  I'm not good with other languages but I interpreted that to mean, "You may sit next to me, fat antsy traveler woman, but do not further address me else I will close the little window cover and pretend I am sleeping against the side of the plane.")

Which brings me to another little point, why do they make you turn off your phone when it's got the "airplane mode?"  I mean, do they have a little gadget in their flight attendant uniform that will secretly beep to them and tell them that one of the sheep has NOT turned off their phones?  Will they pounce on you and throw you and your little cell phone off the plane?  I realized I had forgotten to turn off my cell phone on one leg of the trip and no one noticed.  I suppose it was a good thing I didn't make the plane crash.  (More headlines: Fat Woman Forgets to Turn Off Cell Phone: Plane Goes Kaput!  Fat People Everywhere Pelted by Wet Noodles!)

Okay, I admit I drank too much iced tea again.  I used the bathroom many times.  (There was the whole underwear issue, you know.)  Did you know the airports are cheap and put in teeny-tiny rolls of half-sized toilet paper?

This wasn't on the airplane, this was in the airport
so what the hell?  I could have understood if this
had been on the plane.

See.  It even says compact on it.  The picture doesn't do it justice.  I should have stuck my hand in there so you could see the scale of these.  These are half-sized rolls of toilet paper.  So if you have a serious bathroom issue, you're going to have to work for your potty paper.  (The half size goes hand in hand with the hard-to-roll technique.  You have to be King Kong to get more than three sheets.  Or maybe Popeye the spinach-addicted sailor man.  Seriously, you cannot move this pint-sized roll more than a quarter turn without breaking your fingernails.)  (I'll have to reconsider taking pictures in the bathroom with my Droid based on the reaction of the woman in the next stall over.  It wasn't pretty.)

Finally I got to Norfolk, Virginia.  The plane hadn't crashed.  The meteor hadn't hit.  I was so happy to get off the plane I nearly plotzed.

While I was walking to get my luggage there was a man in front of me who had a backpack.  I had to take a picture of him because he had bungied a banana in the back of the pack.  (Get it?  Back pack?)

See the yellow thing.  It's totally a banana.
He strapped his snack on his back.
This was the safest place he could think of
for his snacky-poo.

I wanted to say something but hey, isn't that what the little bungee cords on the pack are for?

Okay.  Next to come, Part 3, Fat Woman is at the Con!  Finally!  Only good things can happen!  Right.