I Hate People

God, I hate people.  There’s nothing like a couple of weeks on the road to solidify my raging dislike of a hefty portion of the human race. People are beyond annoying and I eagerly lump my family into this category. (The annoying part, of course, not the hate.) Brace yourself, because I’m going to share my vacation travelogue with you. This is a true and brutally accurate account of my recent journey.  If you want the pretty and polite version you’ll need to go to my husband’s Facebook page where he has posted  pictures of happy, smiling children cuddled up to gorgeous vistas that scream, “This is in the running for my 2011 Christmas card.”  What I’m about to tell you wouldn’t make the FB cut.  It’s too honest and we all know that Facebook has no room for factual data about your family.

Step 1: Getting to Our Destination.

Give me your tired, your poor, 

Your huddled masses yearning to wear flannel pajama pants. 

The wretched rejects of Jersey Shore. 

Send these, the tasteless, house-shoe wearing losers to me, 

I lift my Southwest boarding pass to thee!”  (apologies to Emma Lazarus)

Is this inscribed at the entrance to every airport in America? Because there seems to be a call, nay, a battle cry for people to treat air travel like they’re going to a slumber party at a Chuck E Cheese in foreclosure. Yes, yes, I know I’ve expressed my concern before about adults wearing their p.j.’s out in public and many of you scolded me for not giving in to the exquisite comfort of traveling in Homer Simpson themed pajamas.  I know I embrace the fashion statement of Target track pants (aka day pajama’s) but I would not venture beyond the city limits in my 100% polyester with dry weave technology athletic wear.  Furthermore I would not wear house-shoes, slippers or whatever you want to call them beyond the perimeter of my yard.  Lastly, I would not accessorize this tragic ensemble by clutching a king size pillow like it was a life-preserver on the Titanic post iceberg.

What’s up with these pillow folk?  They drag their pillows everywhere with them and worst of all they lay them down on airport terminal chairs, on their luggage, in the public restroom stalls and on the TSA conveyor belt where their pillow can get a rolling massage by the bacteria of travelers past.  Do these deranged and obviously non-antibacterial hand gel people not realize that these pillows they tote with them are in scientific terms mobile feces collectors? Their beloved pillow is the airport Swiffer. The fiberfilled lumps they lug and hug are filled with every filth known to man because there is not much out there that is more hygienically foul than airport terminals and planes. Every time they fondle their pillow they’re releasing a disease cloud into the atmosphere. Really, they might as well french kiss the bottom of their house-shoe and then lick the underside of their airline seat tray table.

Okay, I need to stop here because this is where it’s important to note that I started my journey to Fibville, Liarsburg, Dishonesty Lane, whatever you want to call it, I just started being untruthful and this campaign of earnest storytelling and exaggeration lasted my entire vacation.  In the “It’s never my fault” defense my plane was delayed and I had to resort to entertaining myself by observing the travel rituals of my fellow passengers who were milling around Gate 26.  I was notably distressed by a family of pillow lovers who were decked out at 2:30 in the afternoon in p.j’s, t-shirts and slippers for a two-hour flight.  They were a family of three kids – all over the age of 9 and a mother who could put on a liberal amount of makeup (think smokey eye with extra eyeliner) and jewelry, but apparently couldn’t extend the extra effort to get out of her pajama’s before heading to the airport. Yes, once again I know the nurturing qualities of an elastic waistband, how it snuggles into your stomach’s fat roll and gently embraces it.  If it could talk it would be saying, “Go ahead and eat some more honey there’s still room.” I  also understand that jeans can be uncomfortable, but wasn’t there a Chico’s, the women’s elastic waistband superstore, in her neighborhood or how about some yoga pants?

I had no choice but to engage the mother of this pillow brethren in a conversation.  I started off by asking her if they were about to embark on a lengthy day of travel.  I would cut her some slack if her family were on the first leg of a what would be a 24 hour flight to, I don’t know, Cambodia, or something. Maybe, just maybe I could excuse their sleep-wear attire and bedding accessories. But no, they were simply traveling 2 hours to Grandma’s house.  I then inquired about their p.j.’s and pillows.  “So cute,” I exclaimed, “How your family is all ready for bed.”  P.J. mom laughed and said, “Oh my gosh, we just live in our pajamas!  I have more pajama bottoms than regular pants, I think.”  We both chuckle and then I begin my crusade of lying when I ask about the pillows. “So,” I say, “Pardon my curiosity but why does your family travel with their bed pillows?”  She pauses for a moment like I’ve really asked her a Double Jeopardy brain teaser and then replies, “I don’t know exactly.  We just like our pillows, I guess.”

Wait for it, wait for it, here it comes the big fat lie. “Well,” I say, “I don’t mean to scare you or involve myself in your lifestyle, but I am a microbiologist specializing in 21st century bacteria at the Center for Disease Control and I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind, about those pillows.”  “Um, sure I guess it’s okay,” she says.  “That’s great, thank you for your time,” I say in the most intellectual voice I could muster. I was going for a sexy doctor voice, but I don’t know if I really pulled it off.  “Now, do you find that you or your children become sick during or after you travel?”  This question gets her all excited, “Why yes, yes we do. Usually, at least one of us comes down with something”, she eagerly replies.  “Now, during your travels how many times will you wash each pillow case?”  Once again, I’ve stumped her.  “Um, wow, I guess not until we get home.”  After hearing this response I slide as far away from her and the pillow she is holding in her lap as I can and still remain in my chair and say in now a stern, sexy doctor voice, “That’s a problem madame.” (I thought the madame was a nice touch.) “Why?” she asks while stroking her pillow.  “Well, that pillow you are petting is currently carrying at least 156 diseases.  You are caressing the equivalent of a port-a-potty toilet bowl at day 3 of a 4 day outdoor rock concert and I’m not talking about the lid.  I mean the seat and all it has to offer.” I was on a roll and for the life of me I couldn’t shut up. I swear I tried, but on I went.  “Also, the flannel in the pajama’s pants you and your children are wearing are proven germ collectors. It’s very complicated to explain to someone not in my field of research, but it’s something about the flannel and it’s fiber connectivity.  Your family is the equivalent of a germ strip.  Everywhere you go the flannel seeks out and absorbs bacteria.  Flannel is the toilet paper that wipes the backside of humanity.”  I don’t mean to brag, but Lord I thought that sounded not just “sciencey”, but also somehow very poetic. P.J. mom shrieks, and asks, “My God, what should I do?”  “Now, calm down. There is no need for panic. Let’s get rid of those nasty pillows first.  Just stack them up and leave them by a waste receptacle. (Once again I was trying to sound all smarty pants.)  It’s too bad, there’s nothing you can do about the pajamas.  But, I strongly suggest the next time you walk into an airport you wear something besides attire meant for the privacy of your home.”  She thanks me and jumps up to collect up her kids pillows.  I get up to stretch my legs and bask in the knowledge that I have saved a family from not just the dreaded pillow disease, but from the egregious fate of wearing pajamas in public.  Yeah, I lied and schemed and misrepresented myself, but I did all for you – the traveling public.  No worries, your gratitude and continuing good health are all the thanks I need as I continue to sacrifice the truth in the name of science.

Snark Week continues – Check back tomorrow for Part 2 of I Hate People – A Travelogue of  a Snarky Vacation.  Also stay up-to-date on new posts and take part in my not so deep thoughts click on this Facebook link - http://is.gd/iEgnJ (That’s the abbreviated link to my FB page) or I twitter @snarkynsuburbs. 

21 thoughts on “I Hate People

  1. heavensentme5 says:

    I gagged at the description of the pillows and their germ contents. Kudos Snarky, that’s not an easy task to cause me to gag. ( I have 4 kids after all. ) ha ha I am SO glad I dont’ travel with a pillow and my pj’s are reserved for the privacy of my home. :-)

  2. Allison says:

    Oh my, Snarky— next to the peeing in pants there is the snorting green tea out of your nose laughing……..agreed– tired of seeing jammies everywhere. And yes– your hubby did have some quite perfect pics of the vacation. Too bad no one took one of you in your lab coat in the airport.

  3. amy says:

    LMAO! I remember the day the babysitter showed up to watch my kids in her p.j.s — I thought “Really? Its bad enough I have to pay you to sit here and ignore my children while you text your friends for two hours, could you have at least managed to get dressed this morning????”

    The pillow people drive me crazy too! Thanks for doing your part.

  4. Dr. Snarky ;), in your research did you find out why people who choose to wear their pajamas in public insist on choosing prints filled with day-glo colors and cartoon characters?

    Can’t wait to read what happens next.

  5. gwen says:

    I’m a pillow person!!! :) I travel with it so it won’t take up space in my suitcase. I’m a pillow snob (it’s not expensive, i just can’t sleep well unless i have my own pillow). But I do have a hideous travel pillowcase that i take off once we get to our destination & (hopefully) keeps the germs & stuff away from my actual pillowcase I sleep on. At least that’s what I tell myself. My husband rolls his eyes at me when I bring it along, but if I can’t fit in the in the suitcase, then its coming on the plane! Still – I do laugh at the image of someone holding their pillow while wearing their pjs… at least I wear normal clothes – so I’m only 1/2way annoying. ;)

  6. Prfctmess says:

    Hahahhahah!!
    As usual, LOVE “the snark”!
    Airports are the best place to people watch. 
    I do travel with my “duckfeathers”…a now shabby, flat, down pillow I’ve had for @ least 30 years. (it’s only to clutch not to actualy sleep on & it’s been all over the world w me)
    When I married my husband, he insisted we wash it, as he could not wrap his brain around 
    the “maple syrupy goodness” odor it had.
    Anyway…
    I never wear PJ’s out of the house (you’re insuring you don’t get a courtesy upgrade…) and especially not to an airport. @ least strangers could be fooled into thinking we have some “class”.
    I was in Walmart about a month ago & a cashier was in full on PJ’s & BATHROBE! (blue, fuzzy & big) I thought that maybe it was some special 
    “event” for charity…it was NOT. Wtf?

    Can’t wait to read more of your travels!

  7. santacruzfalls says:

    I love those bacteria stories. Remember, don’t put your purse on your bed! You may be sleeping with a gas station bathroom floor. And remove the bedspread from any hotel room, don’t cuddle with it, or you’ll be sleeping with everybody’s suitcase.

  8. Ken Jarrell says:

    I teach science and after 5 years of sitting on your bed (excluding travel) you 75% of you pillow’s weight is feces and bed bug carcasses. Fun facts I love to tell kids especially after they tell me their pillow is 10 years old.

  9. OMG, hilarious! I would love to have seen this exchange with the pillow woman. Jammies and pillows in airports drive me nuts. Kudos to you for doing your part!
    (and I think I need to burn all the pillows in my house after reading Ken’s science teacher comment. Blech!!)

  10. LindsieMomof2 says:

    You rock!! I am a germophobe and can’t believe people take their pillows on airplanes. I took my pillow to Cincinnati in our car once to visit my brother and ended up with a tick in my hair (thanks to my husband, who put said pillow in the trunk which had just held 10 bags of mulch the day before the trip). I learned my lesson that day and never ever travel with my pillow!! And BTW, you are my hero for the quick lies you come up with to get people to talk- SO funny!!

  11. Julie says:

    I’m so glad that there is someone else out there who doesn’t wear pajamas in public. Although, I have to admit that when dropping off the dogs at the vet, I noticed everyone was staring at me. When I got home, I realized that I was still wearing my slippers.

  12. This was brilliant! I just started to read your blogs, but I love what I’m reading so far. I especially loved the “Their beloved pillow is the airport Swiffer. ” Being the spawn of a flight attendant, I have spent many hours in an airport and nothing could be more true than this post. Humanity thanks you for all your work in ending the PJ Epidemic that has taken over this nation (especially in my generation).

  13. Actually, I don’t think you are far off on the germs on those pillows. Airports are loaded with germs from God knows where !! Then you get on the plane and they keep recycling the air. I would wear a surgical mask if it didn’t mess up my lipstick. ( unlike the pajama people, I like to dress nice when I travel. My 13 year old son has always carried flipflops in his backpack (we’re Floridians, we just can help it ). We will travel to the great white North and as soon as he is back into the airport, out come the flops and he is ready to travel.

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