Two Whiskeys, One Coffee, and the Lovely Janette
April 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
Drunk people on airplanes bore me. I mean, yeah, I am one of them. But, shiiiiit, the dudes in the button down shirts talking about how they hope the fucking pilot isn’t the sort who talks too much need to maybe learn not to talk too much, eyes all glassed over with a barley and hops smell on their breath.
Honestly, though, I think it’s about what you drink. A shitfaced drunk motherfucker on a plane, inches from being kicked the fuck off, has obviously been swigging vodka. The wine drinking crowd needs to give us all a break. How cool are you for having paid seven bucks for that grapey swill in a twist cap bottle? You’re going to have to piss in that wet turd stinking closet sooner than the rest of us.
Our flight attendant asked me what I would like. Two whiskeys, one coffee. That’s the sort of chick I am. If he had some motherfucking ludes, he should crumble em like blue cheese and dust em over the top. He was a middle aged guy who’d referred to the uglier of the female flight attendants as “The Lovely Janette”, making it clear to me that they were either poking, or he thought she was nasty, but she was black so he needed to seem like he wasn’t a racist.
I wanted to go drinking with him, too. He was wearing the hippest fucking specs and he seemed pretty tickled when I told him not to get all fancy and try to offer me a cup. But, shit. I was already drunk from earlier in the day, and I do some stupid shit when I’ve been drinking this much. So, I just said nothing.
Eventually I had three coffees, anyway. I mean, I had to drive myself home from the airport. Getting a ride would have meant putting out, and as much as I need a proper fuck, I haven’t showered in a few days. I don’t feel up for explaining that as soon as I unload the car, and the kind of dudes who pick me up from the airport like to do that straight in the door, pulling panties around ankles, crazy hard fuck.
So, anyway, I had the coffees in addition to the whiskeys and that leaves me wide awake, careening the LA highways, breathing the smog like it’s fresh air. Home again, here in the land of the drunks. Fuck those idiots on the airplanes, drunk on vodka, wine, and shitty beers. This is where I belong, you know? Back with these freaks and jerks, drinking proper fucking liquor, popping adderol, and hiding the fuck away for a few days to write, then re-emerging with some heels so high, you’d need to be a pilot to reach the top of me.