Fresh from U2 and the Atlanta Aquarium, an exhausting 36 hours, we finally hit the airplane home.
The little dude next to me was all talking to his client on his Blackberry, and then as we were taxi-ing to take off he pulled out all this paperwork. It was a deposition about some dude vs. Duke Power (the big electric company out here in North Carolina) – and I was kinda sitting there reading my magazine, but his deposition next door was, like, so much more interesting than what I was reading – especially when paired with his phone call which was all like – “Well, did you try to hide that arrest? No? No. It doesn’t really matter that you got arrested, just as long as they knew when they hired you that this happened. That’s what matters.”
Just, totally fascinating stuff. Some dude’s secretary was being questioned and they totally explained to her the format of a deposition, and she spelled her name all out, and then they were asking her questions and she was all like, ‘I already said that in my written statement’ and the attorney’s were all like, ‘We know that, but we need you to say it.’
The deposition was engrossing as I was totally into it by the third page. And that’s when he noticed me totally reading his shit. I didn’t mean to. It just sorta happened.
Anyway, he shifted himself away from me, hiding the document that had “redacted” parts all over it – totally making it even more awesome… And then it was like uncomfortable bizarro for the rest of the hour-long flight as I watched a movie on my ipod.
And then he totally wasn’t like fascinating when we landed and the second he could he got on the phone with what I assume was his wife and talked about how she had to keep the laundry picked up because the in-laws cat was going to be staying with them ’til next Wednesday and cats can be pretty dirty (Not!) so to let it get all over the laundry was going to be bad – and then he tried to talk to his little daughter and ask her how school was and the daughter obviously handed the phone back to mom after, like, thirty seconds and he was talking to the his wife again about how the in-laws were really going to be out of town that long – really? they can’t cut it a few days short? – and the 4 or 5 rows around him who were waiting to deplane had to listen to this phone call.
FU, Douche. Nobody wants to listen to all that shit. At least wait until you’re off the plane and walking down the concourse to make your personal, non-fascinating phone call.
God, I’ve wasted my life! Maybe I shoulda went to law school just so that reading shit that sounds like a Phillip Roth novel was my job, instead of a hobby.
More about U2, Atlanta, and the Aquarium to come soon!