Portland Trip – Part 2: San Francisco

When last we chatted, I was being escorted to Airport security because SOMEBODY didn’t appreciate my CPAP inspired Bane impersonation.

You know who you are (call me!)

Luckily for me, I used my superior intellect to devise a foolproof plan of escape.  Namely, I cried.  Huge blubbering sobs that ended with me huddled on the floor calling for my mother.  The guards either decided I was no threat or simply grew so disgusted with me they just left me alone.  Either way, victory was mine! I dashed to my gate and joined my travelling companions, Severa and Jebediah*, who know me well enough to not look surprised when I came running up, covered in airport floor grime and still wearing a CPAP mask.  We got on the plane with no problems and enjoyed wonderful flight.  In addition to a tiny, soundless screen embedded in the seat in front of me, the inflight entertainment  included a five hour concert featuring Screaming Todd and the Baby Bawlers.  Seriously, I started the flight hoping my in-laws would have a kid soon so I can satisfy that latent nesting gene I can’t seem to shake, and ended it wondering where the local Ba’al worshipers were and whether I could get them to fire up their furnaces.

Screaming Todd and the Babies – coming to a Canaanite Festival near you

Finally we landed in San Francisco, West Coast bastion of Liberalism.  And sure enough, near the men’s room, I found a booth marked “Liberal Registration,” manned by an aging, dread-locked gentlemen wearing an ill fitting, tie-dyed police uniform and surrounded by a fogbank of patchouli.  He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed and sandals resting on the desk in front of him.

“Excuse me, sir,  I’m a liberal.”

He opened one eye, gave one of those disdainful ‘hmmph’ sounds, and then resumed his nap.

“No really, I’m a card carrying liberal….climate change is real, Dick Cheney  is evil, I love Barack Obama.”

I pulled out my Liberal Card and placed it on the desk.

My Liberal Card

He rocked forward in his chair, picked up my card, then flicked it contemptuously back onto the desk.

“You’re an East Coast Liberal, my friend.  Over here, you might as well be a Republican.”

A Republican?  I had never been so insulted in my life….I started to tell him if he didn’t shut his yap, I’d have to cold-cock him until I realized that :

 (1) using the word ‘cold-cock” near an airport bathroom was a recipe for disaster…I mean what if Larry Craig showed up, and

 (2) any display of violence, real or threatened, would violate the Liberal Credo of Pussification and would be playing right into his hands.

Instead, I leaned forward into his aura of patchouli and threw down the gauntlet.

“I’m as liberal as you are, hippie. Go ahead, try me.”

He grinned, shark-like, sending chills down my spine.

“OK, East Coast… let’s do this.  Why are all corporations evil?”

“They’re not, some corporations are, but there are a many that…”

“WRONG!  Corporations are ALL soulless entities that exist only to rape world culture and profit on the back of the working man….Who do you work for?”

“What?  Um…Cabletown, which by the way are one of the good guys…”

“WRONG!  Cabletown is a corporation and you, with your tie and your suspenders and  your shoes with laces – you are a corporate shill.  The only good thing about you is that cool Bane mask you’re wearing.”

He paused, victory dancing in his eyes..  He had one last estoque in his scabbard and I could see he relished piercing my neck with it.

“What…” he said, voice low and deadly and final… “do you drive? Hybrid or Electric?”

I looked down, beaten.

“A minivan,” I sobbed.

“A gas-guzzling minivan,” he said, incredulously, shaking his head in mock sadness.

He picked up my Liberal Card and tore it in half.

“You’re nothing but a LIMO**.  Get out of my sight. You sicken me.”

I turned, a broken, man without a party,  and shuffled away, CPAP hose dangling between my feet.

And that’s when the guy in the Batman costume showed up.

* Names changed to protect the innocent (namely me) from getting sued
** LIMO – Liberal in Manners Only

Next:  Part 3 – Portland

3 Replies to “Portland Trip – Part 2: San Francisco”

  1. James, this is too funny. I see that you and I have the same type of traveling experiences. I had to wear a medical face mask to protect my immune system from nasty formented airplane germs. Friend me on google+


  2. Still laughing… it’s the only way to respond to the TSA grope-fest…


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