At the airport...

So we went to the airport the other day to pick up Mel's sister Rachel. Before going, I ripped off the side panel of some cardboard box and scribbled "HOUSEHOLDER" (her last name) on it with a big black marker. I think I even scribbled a backwards "E" to add to my cuteness quotient. At the airport, I proceeded to philosophicaly discuss the fabulouness of moving sidewalks and pondered what the world would be like with moving sidewalks everywhere. "It would be a fuckin' fabulous world", I said to Mel. As we waited for Rachel at the entrance to the security checkpoint, I proceeded to ask everyone I saw if they were "The Householder Party" while pointing to my backwoods `ho-made sign.

Rachel finally arrives, hugs ensue and we head down the escalator to the baggage claim. While waiting for Rachel's "non-descript' bags to arrive, I continue to ask people if they are in "The Householder Party". I approach a woman who has a fancy pastic covered sign that reads "Janks". I ask her if she has had any luck yet. She says "No." I ask her if her name is Householder. She polietly tells me "No". I wish her good luck.

Having an urge to use the restroom, I happen to hear a man in the stall having a difficult time with his restroom experience. After a few moments of hearing this trumpt solo, I call out... "Come on man!...Get a hold of it!"


Then a guy washing his hands next to me starts cracking up.

A rejoin Mel and Rachel. I tell them of my bathroom adventure, and they don't find it as funny.

God I love the airport.


swirlogirl 11:39 AM  

hahahah you are hilarious. sound the trumpets!

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