The careless steward

Feeling exhausted and sitting in the seat of the airplane, I finally started to drift asleep. Then a male flight attendant parked his metal cart in front of my seat and began to serve the plane. Moving speedily and deliberately like a nightclub bartendar, he jostled the various beverages to carbonic eruption, rapping them on the metal cart like a punk rock drummer. RATTA TAT TAT! His favorite move was to shake them wildly, so as to prompt the largest racket and fizz when opening. Splotch! That’s how I found myself with freckles of tomato juice on my face. Splotch! Then Sprite. Ok, who orders Sprite at 8 in the frickin’ morning?
Then he turns to me. “Would you like something to drink?”

Stage presence

Last night I attended a special dinner event at my church. I ended up sitting at a table with several people I didn't know——including some mischievous youths. In the beginning of the event, this guy was playing classical guitar on stage. So, one of the youths (who apparently knew the guy) got the idea to heckle him by walking up to him and showing him a note written in large text: "Will you marry me? Check yes or no." The guy playing the guitar was understandably rattled but somehow made it through the piece without missing a note. Now that's some good stage presence.

Mistaken identity

Yesterday I visited a nearby hotel to meet with some internationals in hopes of getting some good story ideas for my job. What I got was a mistaken identity.
I spotted several of the internationals in front of the hotel, so I walked up to them and said "hello." A few remembered me from the day before. Apparently a woman from New Zealand did not. "Oh, are you the driver?" she says. "Where's the bus?"
"Uh, actually I write for Worldwide Challenge."
"Oh..." she said, sounding disappointed.
Then she turned and fiddled with her camera, as if to stall time to wait for the bus.

My response to those who don't think I blog enough:

PBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The day's discovery

Sugerloaf Mountain near Clermont, Florida, is not actually a mountain.

Calling a bluff

Standing at the counter of Dollar Rent a Car, I couldn't believe the news: no more midsize cars, the lady told me. I had made a reservation, but apparently that didn't matter now.
"Well, we do have a minivan that we could give you for the same rate," the service clerk told me. I tried to imagine myself cruising in a minivan, the hulking craft with just me in it. No screaming kids or whatever else they are designed for.
"Uh...thanks, but I'm not interested," I firmly said.
I then proceeded to ask for the shuttle so I could return to the airport.
"Oh, wait," she said. "I guess we do have one Ford Taurus left."

Apparently Dollar wanted to "minivan" me. Fortunately I called their bluff.

I took the Taurus and sped away more than satisfied.

My favorite translation blunders

"Hygiene wet turban needless wash."

--Inscription on a hand sanitizer wipe from China Eastern Airlines

"Drunks or psychos without escort are not allowed in the cab."

--Rule posted in taxi cab