Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Orange is the New Vomit

Over the weekend I went to Houston to celebrate my niece's 1st birthday.  My brother and sister-in-law threw a rager that had upwards of 60 people.  It's sad to know that my niece, who is 1 years old, has a larger social circle than I do.  If my neighbors ever found this out, it would further ostracize me from their bearded, dogged, child rearing ranks. 

Every time I visit my brother, I go into robot mode.  This means, I sit quietly in a recliner until my services are called upon.  This mindless staring at a television helps me avoid having to have any conversations with anybody during the visit.  Then, when my brother asks me to come help set up for the party, I can go move furniture, hang deocrations, set up face painting stations, move furniture again, all with no complaining, and I look like some deocrated hero, saving the day, when all I'm doing is counting the hours until I come home again.

Another theatrical nusiance that results from the visit, is that I'm always expected to color coordinate to some theme that htey're having that day.  It's what I liken to visiting Martha Stewart, except with worse food and stock tips.  In this case everybody was required to wear orange, a color that looks terrible on me.  I know because the one and only other time I wore orange was at my high school graduation.  With my dark skin, I literally look like a pumpkin.  If only I had applied myself a little more I could have worn white like the top 20 students did.  Or better, if I had applied myself even less than I was already doing, I could have worn a much more flattering blue.  But I digress...

Anyways, my niece was extra cute the two days I was there, despite the fact that she would  tears streaming down her face cry every time I picked her up.  I would like to think this because I was wearing orange and she saw how hideous it looked on me, but it was most likely due to the fact that I see her once every 3 months, and usually just point my finger at her and tell her to shut up.  Like a good uncle should!  This was her orange outfit at the party....


Before I forget, I also wanted to mention that my flight to Houston and back was on Spirit Airlines.  This was my first experience with them.  After hearing all the horror stories about all their fees, flight delays, terrible customer service, and old planes, I was pleasantly surprised to find the flight to Houston a comfortable and roomy experience.  Of course this was because I was sitting in an exit row.  On the flight back, I sat in what is considered normal seating for spirit airlines.  The rows in the back of the plane are so cramped, that my knees were digging into the metal bar in the seat in front of me.  And this was me, at 5'7, wondering if I'd ever walk again.  How a tall person would sit in that seat without needing the jaws of life to get out is beyond me.  I liken it to the Jews getting transported to a concentration camp......let that one sink in for a second.  I totally went there.

After the flight, Spirit sends you a 2 question customer survey.  Question 1, on a scale of 10 to go eff yourself Spirit Airlines, how likely are you to recommend us to your friends?  Question 2, Why?  You'd think with an effective survey like that (i.e. one that tells you up front that they only have 2 questions), that you'd get a sufficient amount of feedback about their awful seating conditions and would remove the seats.  Most likely some malevolent overlord at Spirit Headquarters in the 8th circle of hell is reading these emails and just laughing maniacally.  I mean, they must have got their seating model from a Tokyo subway at rush hour!  (come on...ONE of you saw that History channel special!)  Anyways, you can guess my answers to those questions and know that know amount of cost savings was worth that...you know...until the next time I fly.

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