Ladies and gentlemen, I'm in Thailand. And I'll keep being in Thailand for the next couple of weeks. But to get to Thailand were I'm currently taking a 14-hour train ride killing time writing, I had to sadly first go to an airport, because I'm not Slovene's living legend Peter Prevc who could probably simply jump and soar here all by himself. But me? It seems that all I can jump to is conclusions from time to time so as I said, I had to unfortunately first go to an airport. Why unfortunately? Because I'm not too fond of airports since this is where humor goes to die. Here, I'll give you an example.
On one of my previous trips during my check in, the lady behind the counter routinely asked me all the usual questions and finally came to, 'Do you have anything in your hand luggage that you're not supposed to have? Any liquids, dangerous items, any sharp objects?'
At what point I said, even though I still don't know why, because I knew I shouldn't no matter how many times I imagined the scene in my head thinking it would've been funny as fuck if I once when asked at the airport if I had any sharp objects in my luggage said, 'No, no, nothing dangerous. Except... I do have this knife with me, I don't know if that counts.'
She looked up, eyes bulging out of her head, but when she saw my dumb grin, she smiled back while I was already shaking my head saying, 'No, no, no, no, no, I was joking, I don't know why I said that, I'm stupid, that's way I said that, of course I don't have a knife,' and there here eyes went, jumping out of her sockets again, so I thought to myself stop saying knife, you idiot, and just shut the fuck up. And shut the fuck up I did.
Upon my silence she said dryly, 'Just don't pull that stunt when you get to your destination, Miss,' obviously without a single funny bone in her body.
But apparently not just employees, other airport visitors have no sense of humor either. When a couple days ago, when we were waiting for the plane towards Bangkok, my boyfriend asked me why do people have to sit on the seats stated on their boarding passes, I offered: 'If the plane crashes and they scratch some burnt body remains off of a plane seat, they know who to send them to. If I had to take a guess.'
Woman sitting behind me eating a sandwich stopped chewing. But while she was choking on her snack, me and my boyfriend were cracking up, our laughter echoing in an otherwise silent and somber waiting room.
'You're an idiot,' my boyfriend said.
'A FUNNY idiot,' I revised.
But life is another funny idiot, I guess, which funnily enough never seems to runs out on jokes and so somewhere in the middle of Thailand at 2 a.m. Thai time, while lying in a second class fanned (not air conditioned, mind you) sleeper otherwise also known as a sauna tin can on my way from Bangkok to Chiang Mei, the universe decided to rape my brain with a certain thought which sprung into my mind after I woke with a start: "Fuck. Did I Remember to lock the house?!"
Guess who's laughing, bitch?
Thanks for stopping by and looking and reading (obviously) my mishmash jumble of pot-pourri-like craziness, it means the world to me. Therefore, you're welcome to pop by again next week to see what's new on the blog — I post once a week every week, most likely somewhere between Wednesdays and Sundays. But beware, I'm not signing and sealing that in blood so your best bet is to follow FPS via email (or Bloglovin, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or Google+) to never miss an update. Or simply come by again sometimes!