Apparently I’m A Wizard

Shreveport was a common airport for airplanes to randomly land at in case any airports in Texas threatened bad weather or someone sneezing.

There were times where we would get 10+ aircraft landing at the airport and I would end up working an 18 hour shift and have to return in six hours to work another 10 hours to play catch up.

There were days where my job was a total and complete nightmare.

And then there were days where I was actually on the local news.  No joke.  I was on the news twice.  National news once.

Not even slightly kidding.

However I was pretty blurry and I had glasses on and my hair in a bun, so there’s a very slim chance any of you realized it was me.

We had an instance where we had flights divert to Shreveport, and our regular flights would come in and cancel, or our outbound flights would cancel due to a single snowflake landing nearby.

 

Because heaven forbid the south deal with snow.

Okay, I’m not being fair.  For someone not raised in cold weather, it can be terrifying.  My coworker didn’t know that cold weather can make your tires look deflated, so when he was going to come into work when it was 10 degrees outside, he called and said he couldn’t come in because all four of his tires were flat from how cold it was.  I told him that once he started driving they would become round again and back to normal, but he didn’t believe me because he was over twice my age and heaven forbid someone half his age knew something.

Ugh.

Anyway, I have a common theme with my airline job posts.

I dealt with a lot of crazy people.

Like, you have no idea.

People think I’m a fucking wizard, for instance.

We actually had really bad weather one day.  There was a tornado that was visible from the windows of the front of the airport.  Not close enough to cause severe damage to where I was at, but we could actually see the tornado.  So naturally the flights cancelled.

I had a woman who said she was a doctor and she shoved her way to the front of the line, telling me she was a doctor and that I had to un-cancel the flight because she had patients waiting for her.

I explained to her that there was a tornado and that it was a safety consideration since tornadoes have habits of completely fucking up aircraft.

“But I’m really important and I have to get on a plane today!  You have to get a plane out!”

“No, I don’t, because I don’t control the skies.  It’s a safety concern, ma’am, I can’t help you.”

Well, one flight did not cancel and it was the very last flight of the night.  And this flight had 52 people booked for a 50 seater plane.  This flight was severely oversold.  And this happens a lot when there’s bad weather.  It’s unavoidable.  This lady was standing to the side and was on the phone trying to make arrangements when I made the mistake of doing my job and checking in a passenger.  When she saw me checking him in, she literally shoved this guy away from the counter and started to scream at me.

“HOW COME HE GETS TO FLY AND I DON’T?!”

“Because his flight didn’t cancel, yours did.”

“Well take his ass off the flight and put me on the flight.  I’m a doctor!  I’m far more important than him!”  This guy just looked at her flabbergasted.

“I have to work too, you know,” the guy had said.

“Yes but you’re not saving peoples lives.  I am.  Therefore I’m more important.”

You’re probably thinking I’m exaggerating this story, and I’m really not.  I had people tell me all the time how they’re more important.  It pisses me off.

“Ma’am, I can try to put you on standby, but the flight is oversold so I won’t be able to get you on the flight.”

Oh this pissed the dragon lady off.  She continued to scream at me and tell me how I must not care about dying children because that’s who she was saving and that if she didn’t get out of Louisiana those children were going to die.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I left my magic wand at home so I can’t fix the weather.”

My friend told me this line, and I loved it so much and I had so little fucks left to give so I told this lady that exact line.  Her jaw dropped, but I think the realization of how little I was able to do finally dawned on her.

I never saw her again.

Have you ever dealt with people who thought they were better than you?  Have you ever used a magic wand to change the weather?  Let me know in the comments!  DISCUSS SOMETHING PLEASE!

Also, Alex has started his own blog.  If you want to read about how being an adult while working out and being a super nerd is working out, click here and read about his shenannigans of his ambitions to be a viking god

 

That Time I Let A Foreigner Sleep At My House

Before I tell this story, you all have to promise not to judge me.

In order for this story to make sense, I should explain that my job works closely with travel. I won’t say where to protect my job and my privacy, but I work with people traveling all the time and I get to meet a lot of really cool people

Sometimes I even meet movie stars...

Sometimes I even meet movie stars…

There was one evening though, that a young Chinese woman came in with a man here from Louisiana. She had four suitcases and she was trying to get my attention. Since I was pretty much done working for the night, I went over to see if I could help her.

She told me that she had to get to Kansas City as quickly as possible and needed to know if she could buy a ticket that night. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do to help her that evening. I told her the next time we had anything going out would be early the next morning, but I didn’t have the ability to sell it to her. I told her to go online and look there, but her computer was pretty wonky and wasn’t working. She had been in the United States for less than a day, and she was scared.

I found out that the man that she was with was hosting her here in Shreveport, and he was a little on the creepy side, if I do say so myself. He was polite enough, but the way she was acting and the way he was talking poorly about her to her face and to me, a total stranger, tipped me off a little bit. I tried to ignore my instincts, but there really wasn’t much to be done. He kept telling her to get in his car, she kept refusing. She even turned me and pulled me away from him, mouthing something to me, something I couldn’t quite figure out.

She eventually made him angry enough that he stormed off. She went into a different part of the building and said she was going to sleep there until she could buy a ticket in the morning. I went back to finish up paperwork at my job, but my stomach kept nagging me. I knew something was up, and if I had been her, I would have been terrified. Once I had clocked out, I saw her in a different part of the building with her laptop out, trying to get ahold of her friend. When I sat down next to her, she started crying, telling me how scared she was.

This made me feel really rotten. She was mouthing, “Help me,” when I was telling her to go back with the person hosting her. Apparently he had a gun on every wall of the house, he had a history of mail order brides and being divorced from them, and she was just, overall, realizing that staying with him was a bad idea so she told him she had to go to the airport to see her friend in Kansas City.

She told me quite a bit about herself, and the more I talked to her, the more I liked her. However, after an hour of sitting with her, Alex was asking me where I was. I told her I had to go and every time I tried to leave, she would grab my hand and ask me if I could stay just a few minutes more. After another hour, I was able to go home, but not until she had given me a flannel toilet seat cover with penguins on it. She said it was to keep my butt warm in the winter.

True Story, this is the EXACT toilet seat cover she gave me.  It is SO DAMN SOFT!

True Story, this is the EXACT toilet seat cover she gave me. It is SO DAMN SOFT!

As I was starting the drive home, I called Alex and told him the entire situation. I mentioned that I had offered to bring her home with me and let her stay the night, and she had declined. Alex then asked me if I had insisted.

No, I hadn’t really. And the farther I got away from my work, the guiltier I felt. I thought that if I was in a strange place, where I hardly spoke the language, I would be terrified. I would be unable to function well, and I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about her well-being. I knew she was scared, and I was scared for her.

I turned the car around and drove back and found her trying to ask people to help her buy a ticket. I came upon her and told her to come home with me. I told her my husband was okay with it and I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone. After ten minutes of bickering with her a bit, she reluctantly agreed and put her stuff in my car. The farther from my work we were, the more bubbly she became. I think that I had earned her trust enough for her to trust me. We got to my house and I told her I had two dogs and my house wasn’t super clean, to which she exclaimed it was much cleaner than the guy’s house that she had stayed at for one day.

She gave us some awesome Chinese medicinal patches for muscle relaxing, a keychain for Alex with Panda’s on it, and a shell necklace. She gave us these things because she said she was so grateful for us helping her.

She noticed that we had Chinese art throughout the house and commented that she never thought that the Chinese culture really picked up in the States. She cried when thanking Alex for letting her stay with us, and Alex and I told her that we expect the same if we ever visit China, to which she agreed heartily.

We talked for a while, getting to know each other, and the next morning I woke her up to get a cab to get to the airport and fly to Kansas City.

A few days later she texted me, telling me she made it there safely and was staying with her friend, and that we should skype soon.

So that’s my good deed of the month.

Have you ever helped a stranger in need? Do you think I was being risky letting a stranger stay in my home? What are your thoughts? Let me know in the comments!

The Were-Gay

Hi everyone!  I wanted to wish everyone a happy holidays and a great new year!  I’m sorry I haven’t posted in so long, I’ve been incredibly busy doing training for my job and overall dealing with crazy people (I have several posts planned).

This post is a prequel to a post I will be posting later this week.  Alex and I have a joke about were-gays, which are were-wolves but not quite.  The story I was going to tell involves that joke, but since it would be kind of hard to explain without this story, Alex has graciously offered to write this post regarding the origin of the were-gay, so I can tell the awesome hilarious story later on.  So without further adieu, I hope you enjoy Alex’s writing 🙂

Having been a long time reader of my wife’s post (this is definitely said without her looking over my shoulder), I wanted to give the first-view perspective to a situation that happened to me. I hope you enjoy.

I once had a group of friends that would get together and shoot the breeze with. It was a great group of people and I miss them greatly. One of them (for the sake of protecting the innocent we will call her Amber) was a particularly violent lesbian who was also an army recruiter. She was by far my favorite as all of her stories were over the top and hilarious from my point of view. I’d still be supportive to her plights, but MAN was she funny to listen to.

During one particular story she was talking about funny double standards in dealing with gay recruits. Recruiters will often transport an applicant to several locations to in-process the individual. It is a huge taboo with recruiters (apparently) to transport applicants of the opposite gender anywhere. This is a good rule in making sure that no one is being taken advantage of and keeps people safe.

The one drawback to this is when the applicant happens to be gay. In the happenstance of the applicant being a gay male and the recruiter being a hetero male, this causes “strife”.

I know why this is probably the case, but I go ahead and ask Amber why.

“Because none of the other recruiters want to be alone in the car with these gay guys,” she groans, her eyes almost rolling out of her head onto the floor.

I’m genuinely intrigued by the statement. “So they think these men can’t get through a car ride without hitting on them?”

“You should hear these guys,” she laughed, “they honestly start to panic when they have to take him somewhere. They’re convinced he’s going to overpower them on the car ride.”

At this point I start to laugh, and when I say laugh I mean that kind of laugh where you start at a chuckle and slowly evolve into a full-blown “I-can’t-breathe-please-stop-me-before-I-hyperventilate” state of mind. I’m holding my sides and laughing while Amber is chuckling but also wondering why I’ve suddenly lost my marbles.

When I finally catch my breath I let her in on the little secret. It was a scenario that played out like this…

Two men, an army Tech Sergeant and a hopeful recruit, sit quietly in a car driving on the freeway. The radio playing a country song that neither man is listening to. The sergeant drives, hoping to keep conversation to a minimum as to avoid any awkward situations. The recruit keeps his silence and looks straight ahead.

Suddenly, the full moon looms overhead and the recruit clutches his chest in pain. He screams in agony and doubles over in pain against his seat belt. The recruiter is at a loss and begins to panic at the situation.

“Are you ok?!” the recruiter yells, hoping against all odds that this is not as bad as it looks.

“I…can’t…fight it…” the recruit manages to gasp in painful breaths.


The recruit looks the sergeant, his eyes a tinted yellow and wolf-like. He licks his lips and bears his now canine teeth. A mad look of hunger and desire are apparent behind those inhumane eyes.

“…I NEED THAT DICK!!!”

With that the were-gay lunges from his seat while the sergeant is helpless whilst driving the vehicle. In an unnatural move of dexterity and super-gayness the recruit rips off that sergeants pants and jams his cock right in his mouth. The were-gay howls in delight, his howl of course coming out unclear with all the man meat in his supernatural jaws.

So yeah, that’s what ran through my mind at the thought of that. Of course it’s silly for me to think that’s actually true. Pretty ridiculous, right?

…although I’ve never seen a werewolf and a gay man in the same room together…

Have you ever been subjected to werewolves?  Do you know people who think that this is how homosexuality is caused?  Do you have a similar hilarious story?  Let me know in the comments!

Crazy Yacht Parties: Tales Of A Crazy Biatch Bonus Round

Have you read about Marjorie before?  If so, continue, if not, here’s some context.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

 

So, of course, Marjorie had a lot of other stories that I just couldn’t fit in because they just weren’t as bat shit crazy as the rest of her stories, but there was one that I remembered, and I thought, “My god, this would get me so many views and people might use these stories in work seminars to explain why you should avoid crazy—I SHOULD TOTALLY TELL IT!”

So, alas, here is the story of how Marjorie told me about how she threw a party on her yacht when her dad died.

Yes, you read that right.

Marjorie claimed to be a gold digger.  However, I thought gold diggers were supposed to be extremely pretty and hot and pretty much super models, something that Marjorie wasn’t.  She wasn’t ugly by any means, but she was fairly average looking, and on the heavier side.  When I think gold diggers, I think more along the lines of Kate Upton.

Definitely not Marjorie

Definitely not Marjorie

However, she said that in her home state, she had a bunch of sports cars and sports boats, and even a yacht, because her sugar daddies and ex-husbands believed in taking care of her in the best possible way.

At this point, I figured that she must be delusional, but I smiled and let her continue her bat shit craziness.

She told me that her dad was a military officer and she had 5 or six siblings, I forget honestly.  She said that she and her siblings all hated their dad, but before she told me that, she said that her dad died a few years ago.

I told her I was sorry and her response was something along the lines of, “Oh it’s no big.  We all had a huge boat party to celebrate when he died.  We were so drunk!  It was so crazy!”

When I gave her a look of horror, she went on to explain.  “Oh, my dad was a total asshole.  We hated him.  So we had a big party on my yacht to celebrate him dying.”

Because, you know, that’s what you do when someone dies.  Have a party on a yacht.

She went on to explain all the things that they did on her yacht, and how they all did their greek mythology worship, which to me made no sense.  A friend of mine who is extremely well versed in greek mythology laughed quite a bit when I told her Marjorie’s “religious beliefs” because Marjorie was totally and completely misinformed about what each god represented.  Also, it was increasingly difficult to follow her stories, they kept changing.  I’m sure if she told that story now, the party would have been on her own private cruise ship, because her sugar daddy owned Princess Cruises or something like that.

I don’t know, I just know that the stories seemed to never end.

What is the craziest thing you’ve heard people do when someone dies?  Did you enjoy the stories about Marjorie?  Let me know in the comments!

I Need An Adult

 

I was telling my mom this story the other day and she got a little upset with me.  I think mostly because I’m 24, almost 25, and I still need an adult to figure shit out for me, and legally I’m an adult.  She even said so.  Her exact words were, “Leah, you’re 24 years old, you are an adult, you need to start acting like one.”

No mom, I don’t get this adult stuff.  It’s hard.  Make me mac and cheese?  Please?

Comfort food at it's finest

Comfort food at it’s finest

But the story I was telling my mom… I don’t know if she was laughing because it was actually funny, or if she was shaking her head, trying to figure out how someone who shares half of her DNA could be such an airhead.  I’m pretty sure it’s a mix of both.

I was at the BX the other day looking for a thermos.  For those of you who are nonmilitary, a BX is basically the Military version of Walmart, where you don’t have to pay sales tax and most of the stuff is ridiculously cheap and all made in china.  I shop there to get a lot of bare necessities because the sales tax in Louisiana is around 9%.

Anyways, I thought that this product would be with the coffee mugs.  Or at least the stainless steel travel mugs.  After about ten minutes of me wandering up and down the aisles, I was getting frustrated.  I was going to bring hot chocolate to work since it’s been getting in the 30s at night and with the wind and humidity, I was feeling miserable.

After searching and searching, I found a really, really old man lost as well.  I went up to him and asked him if he knew where they’d be.  He said it was probably in the camping section.

This didn’t occur to me.  I thanked him and headed over to the outdoor section and kept looking around.  I found travel mugs and tents and that, but I was getting really frustrated.

I saw a sales associate helping someone and actively avoiding me, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I stood with my fists clenched on my sides, and I yelled at the top of my lungs, “I NEED AN ADULT!”

The sales lady slowly turned her head to look at me, confused.  The way I was acting, I think she was trying to figure out whether or not I was some punk kid or an adult.  I certainly look like I’m in my 20s, but I’ve looked like I’m in my 20s since I was 14 years old.

She walked over and asked what I needed.  I told her I needed a thermos to keep my hot chocolate warm at work.

She showed me where they were, I thanked her, and paid at the register.  Then I ran into the Troll and his girlfriend to discuss thanksgiving, where they will be joining us.  Because Alex and I never half ass food.

 

When has there been an instance where you needed an adult?  Do you have times where you just want your mom to cook you comfort food?  Are there times where you just want to curl up and eat ice cream? 

Dat Fine Ass

So this happened.

Me: Alex, I may have to leave you.

Alex: Alright, I’ll bite.  What happened?

Me: All these sweet talkers are just sweeping me off my feet.

Alex: Oh?  What are they saying?

Me: Twice today, I had someone say to me, “Damn girl, dat ass is fine.”

Alex: Oh man.

Me: I know, right?  How do I resist the charms of “Dat ass is fine?”  Also, “Damn girl, gimmie yo’ number.”

Alex: I totally understand if you leave.  I can’t compete with that.

Me:  They must have been pretty confident too, considering nobody would even stand up when they hit on me.

Alex:  Damn, I have no idea how I can ever compete with that.

Me: I know.  I’m sorry, but those sweet talkers are just too irresistible.

Alex: Did they even mention dem tits?

Me: Nope, just dat ass.

Alex: What did they do when you said you were married?

Me: Well, one guy just got up and left.  No sorry, no apology, nothing.  Second I said married, he walked out.  The other guy said, “Well damn girl, if that ever changes you look me up.”

Alex:  Well at least they gave up once you pulled the marriage card.

Me: Yeah, because apparently touching a married woman is worse than telling them about dat fine ass.

Alex: Obviously.

I’m Out-Weirding Everyone

It’s no secret:  I’m bizarre.

Really bizarre.

I tell people this when they first meet me, and they usually say something like, “Oh my god, me too!  I like to play videogames when I’m home, I’m like, so weird!”

Then I hug them, pet their hair, and whisper in their ear, “Oh sweetie, you’re just a novice, let me tell you about the major leagues.”

My new job is full of people from everywhere.  We have pacific islanders, Caribbean islanders, one Midwesterner (me), a couple Floridians, a couple from Washington, and so on.  I think we only have one person actually from Louisiana, but he lived in Seattle and Hawaii for a number of years so he doesn’t really count.  One gal is from New Orleans, but Nawlins isn’t Louisiana, it’s just Nawlins.

While they are a little eccentric, I seem to always weird out everyone when I decide to open up and say something bizarre.  For instance, it was cold the other day, so I hugged my coworker to warm her up.  She said, “Oh my god Leah, It’s just so damn cold!”

So I replied, “Would licking help?”

Except two people.

Except two people.

Because, you know, if you lick someone, they jump around and scream from how grossed out they were. I thought that this was a generous offer, but her reaction was to jump away from me and hug my other coworker, exclaiming I was trying to lick her.

Another day, another coworker asked me if I could twerk.  So instead of saying yes, I begin to twerk.

And a lot of our clients saw.

And I did not care.

And the cake topper, one of my coworkers who seems to enjoy the eccentric that is I, she asked me to run around the building after we had closed, waiving my arms and screaming, while she did it as well so she could share it on snap chat.

And since she’s the size of my left foot*, in the video, you see her running fast and screaming while waiving her arms, and you see me, my belly bouncing, my ass clapping, while I’m going “AHAHAHAHAHHA!”

And I sent it to Alex, to which he told me he was proud.

So if you meet me in person and tell me, “Oh my god, I’m so weird, I get drunk and scream!”

I’m going to hold you, stroke your hair, and whisper in your ear, “Oh sweetie, you have no idea what weird is.”

I am going to blow your fucking mind

I am going to blow your fucking mind

If you hold me and tell that to me, I’m going to want proof.  Maurna may have me beat with her third nipple and her infatuation with her vagina, which didn’t weird me out, it made me want to go visit her to prove it.

Because, you know, I hate being shown up.

Do you think you’re weird or nerdy?  Prove it.  Tell me a really horribly awkward story that proves your weirdness.  

*My coworker is really short and very small in general.  Her head only reaches my shoulder and she’s a very sweet little thing.  I love working with her.  She’s great.