JetBlue, oh, JetBlue, what the fuck is wrong with you?
I was really, really, REALLY hoping that I could report to all of you that my triumphant return to JetBlue Airways went off without a hitch. I so badly wanted to let you all know that they had made amends and I would gladly be flying them again in the near future. I was preparing to type out those exact sentences for all the world to see... and then I opened my checked luggage.
I am not certain how a poorly trained Rhino would fare at baggage handling duties but I'd have to imagine the Rhino would best the Mental Midgets that work for JetBlue. It's my fault, really. Just like it's a parents fault when they decide to give their son unfettered access to the internet the moment he enters puberty or when a prison warden decides a violent repeat offender can get a weekend pass to go bar hopping. I made the poor choice. I trusted them with a task they clearly weren't ready for. I should have started them off slow. Maybe have them set the table for dinner, with the good china (that's really just extra thick paper plates in my world). Or pack my car trunk so they can show me they understand concepts like you can't smash a square object into a round hole. Hell, I should have just set them down in front of some tinker toys and wooden blocks. Anything to show me they can handle responsibility like mature adults.
Instead I was greeted by a smashed metal (I can't even bend it back into shape) glasses case and pair of saline solution soaked lounge pants. Luckily my glasses must have seen the devastation coming and made a run for it to the bottom of the suitcase. I was spared the expense of replacing nearly new specs.
On the plus side, I am now in Culver City and back in the arms of my Lovely Girlfriend. I will hopefully be posting updates on how fantastic this trip is on a daily basis. If I fail to write on any given day please take heart in the fact that I am having the Best Damn Time a Cancer Patient is legally allowed to have.
I was really, really, REALLY hoping that I could report to all of you that my triumphant return to JetBlue Airways went off without a hitch. I so badly wanted to let you all know that they had made amends and I would gladly be flying them again in the near future. I was preparing to type out those exact sentences for all the world to see... and then I opened my checked luggage.
I am not certain how a poorly trained Rhino would fare at baggage handling duties but I'd have to imagine the Rhino would best the Mental Midgets that work for JetBlue. It's my fault, really. Just like it's a parents fault when they decide to give their son unfettered access to the internet the moment he enters puberty or when a prison warden decides a violent repeat offender can get a weekend pass to go bar hopping. I made the poor choice. I trusted them with a task they clearly weren't ready for. I should have started them off slow. Maybe have them set the table for dinner, with the good china (that's really just extra thick paper plates in my world). Or pack my car trunk so they can show me they understand concepts like you can't smash a square object into a round hole. Hell, I should have just set them down in front of some tinker toys and wooden blocks. Anything to show me they can handle responsibility like mature adults.
Instead I was greeted by a smashed metal (I can't even bend it back into shape) glasses case and pair of saline solution soaked lounge pants. Luckily my glasses must have seen the devastation coming and made a run for it to the bottom of the suitcase. I was spared the expense of replacing nearly new specs.
On the plus side, I am now in Culver City and back in the arms of my Lovely Girlfriend. I will hopefully be posting updates on how fantastic this trip is on a daily basis. If I fail to write on any given day please take heart in the fact that I am having the Best Damn Time a Cancer Patient is legally allowed to have.
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