On my layover in Atlanta I was starving and had to find a place to eat. The Atlanta airport is so huge that there are numerous options, the only problem was because of the holiday traffic most places had long waits which I didn’t have time for. I swallowed my pride and decided that the Quiznos was looking pretty good and it wasn’t super ridiculously over priced like most airport fare. By the way, which pricing is worse? Airport prices or prices on rest stops on toll roads like the thruway in New York? How is this total price raping even acceptable? You should never have to pay $9.00 for McDonald’s under any circumstances…ever.
Back to the story, I got into the long ass line and began to check my e-mail via my phone. It wasn’t like I was expecting an important message or anything; I just felt that it made me look like a mover and shaker even though I was looking at Viagra ads and home refinancing options. As the line moved I looked up to see the girl in line ahead of me, she was rather thin, wearing fashionable close, and I had a feeling that she was rather attractive. She turned her head slightly to reveal a high cheekbone faced that looked like…. Keira Knightley.
I began to freak out, could it really be her? Why would she be eating Quiznos? Why would she be in the Atlanta airport alone? How come nobody else noticed her? How do I explain to her that I wrote a blog about wanting to get a date with her so it could end with me giving her the shocker? Would it be wrong to grab her and make out with her on the chip rack?
These questions flooded me at once. And I answered them in my head because that is just how I work.
Could it really be her? Sure I have seen numerous famous people on regular flights and hanging out in airports before, not every celebrity has a private jet even though we like to think that. Plus she can’t be that loaded, her recent run at the box office has been pretty bad and she has resorted to returning to artsy English movies. Maybe she will be on my flight and we can join the mile high club? Or even get a quick handie in the galley, although her boney hands might just bring pain.
Why would she be eating Quiznos? She is from England where the food is shit, she doesn’t know any better.
Why would she be in the Atlanta Airport alone? Not everyone has an entourage; maybe she is on her way back to England for the holidays and her staff is in LA or something. Or maybe she is preparing to do a movie and wants to examine how the other half lives… However, I think it boils down to her just stalking me. That crazy little bitch.
How come nobody else noticed her? Well it is Atlanta, unless she was a dog murder nobody down here cares. Honestly if I ever see a “Free Mike Vick” t-shirt again I am beating that person to death because they are too stupid to live. Note to African American’s: if you want to support a cause of injustice that directly impacts society and your race why don’t you wear a “Free the Jena 6” shirt, you know the real victims of injustice. (Wow didn’t mean to take a serious turn there.)
How do I explain to her that I wrote a blog about wanting to get a date with her so it could end with me giving her the shocker? I don’t think I need to tell her, you know one of her publicist’s googled her name and found it one day. They thought about setting us up on a date but then thought better of it as they didn’t want her coming back saying, “He put two in the pink and one in the stink, that bugger.” (All English people say bugger, right?)
Would it be wrong to grab her and make out with her on the chip rack? No, nothing would be hotter than a bag of salt n vinegar chips getting shoved where the sun doesn’t shine, plus women love this type of spontaneous romantic shit. Of course some might not find this spontaneous or romantic and would possibly consider it sexual assault; I don’t need another strike on my record.
Finally, after answering all these questions in my head her cell phone rang. When she answered it, she turned fully my way and revealed herself to not be Keira Knightley. My dreams of a chip rack make out session were ruined, so I just went back to reading the e-mail on my phone and dreaming of what could have been.
Is making out on a chip rack in line tacky?