Travel Chronicles: Dudes Gonna Dude

Dude on train *asks me how to get to Penn Station*

I respond that I don’t know.

Dude sarcastically : You don’t know where you’re going?

Me patiently, following Rule 62 of what to do when dudes be duding: I know exactly where I’m going I don’t know how to help you get to where you’re going.

5-6 random femmes of all ages and nationalities *jump in to help him, Whip out phones, point to diagrams.*

Dude: I can’t take y’all seriously y’all don’t sound secure.

All of us femmes except one *glance over phones, smirk, sigh, roll our eyes, make eye contact that says Gurl, return to our bubbles*

The remaining femme, the one who seems to be most over his shit *continues to help him figure out his directions*

Dude *continues to be super whack.* Thanks his helper in a manner fitting of being a dude on a train with a huge ass suitcase.

Of course I have six different stories on the reason why he’s on the train with this huge ass suitcase in the first place. At least 2 being that some femme got sick of his Dudely ways.

When The Driver Says Fxck Your Life and Means It.

I’m in a shuttle traveling from NYC to Stamford CT. The driver is rude or maybe he’s just “I don’t give a fuck about you.” but whatever it is I’m impatiently counting the seconds until I get out of his vehicle. Weirdly enough I’ve heard him be rather nice to customers who call and request his services over the phone even using his professional -read white- voice.

He drives like Fuck your life is his motto. Within the first 5 minutes of being in his death vehicle I began praying to all of the ancestors and all of the Gods. ALL OF EM. Especially when he said Fuck the bus and just drove in front of it. 

(In case you can’t tell what you’re looking at the red and white stripes are on the bus mirror that he drove in front of who had the right of way.)

His breath smells like when you leave organic waste in your trashcan for too long and it gets wet. Which isn’t the only reason that I’m happy he’s not a talkative friendly driver but it’s at the top of the list. But when he blows his breath at the other drivers my life passes before my eyes. He’s an angry driver so this has happened quite a bit on this 50+ minute drive. 

I guess he is who people are talking about when they say “Rude New Yorkers” he eminates his rudeness from his pores. I knew it from the second he walked up to me at the airport as if the mere fact that I needed his shuttle (which he gets paid for) was the entire bane of his existence. And though I HATE not tipping people it’s not looking good for this dude. And although I REALLLY dislike tipping people who treat you like they think that you’re not going to tip in the first place brother man from the dumpster has like 20 minutes to at least act like he has some customer service or imma have to keep my pennies in my purse. 

My travel day has been pleasant up until this point but now I’m really wishing I would’ve bought some Tequila in the airport. 

Mantra for today: That was then this is now. The past is the past and the future is everything.

Travel Chronicles 1.12.16: Tip Your Waiter 

Eric at the airport bar isn’t here for your shit. He is fancy and efficient and he will serve you but if you’re looking for all of that flowery language look elsewhere.

What is it that you want? How can he help you? If you wanna be walking all around the bar like there aren’t perfectly good and sturdy chairs all up and around this bar he’s going to need you to start a tab. “If your butt’s not in the seat I’m going to need a card.” I’m paraphrasing but you get his drift.

The check you asked for 13 minutes ago, it’s there in front of you. Pay it and leave or don’t, but next time don’t be so demanding for things that aren’t an immediate need. He has things to do. Like upsell people half price shots with their beers. Everyone loves a good drunk plane rider. Right? Or at least it’ll help chill everyone’s frazzled nerves. Cause nerves are frazzled. People are shooting up Airport baggage claims and stuff like they have nothing better to do. I mean most people do. I mean Chris does. And he’s good at it. Efficient. Fancy. Just not flowery. So don’t forget to tip your waiter.