Don’t Mess With My Nasal Cavities
It’s not enough that when you fly, you’re treated like a terrorist and a piece of cargo and have to deal with delays, lost luggage and surly flight attendants. No. The coup de grace is the germs.
Technically, studies of the air flow show that airplane fuselages are not any more germy than an office building or the street. But the authors of these studies did not account for the woman in front of me on the jetway at the godforsaken airport in Dallas over the weekend. She let loose a torrent of sneezes and coughs…with her arms at her sides, leaving all those behind her no choice but to walk right through her germy little droplets.
I silently cursed her then and more publicly curse her now as I sit here with a damned sore throat and a general crud.
That this would happen in Dallas is just perfect. No doubt, I have caught the crud from a friggin’ Cowboys fan.
And what is it with these Texans? I know several of them and they’re nice enough people, but I swear they have an inferiority complex disguised as a superiority complex. I passed an airport restaurant in Dallas called Texas Attitude. What is so damned special about Texas that they should have their own attitude? Then there’s the famous slogan, Don’t Mess with Texas. Why not mess with Texas? What are they going to do? Beat me up? And what about Maryland? Is it ok to mess with Maryland?
You see, everything is big in Texas. Big geographical size (it’s flat and boring- I’m not impressed). Big, hearty laughs. Big belt buckles. Big hair.
And big germs. Great, big, Texas-sized germs. The germs are so big in Texas, they wear cowboy boots.
I know they think they’re their own nation. The Republic of Texas. They’ve even talked about seceding. Well, ok, then. Do it. Secede. And please, ban all flights into and out of Texas and Dallas.
Ok, I’m sorry. It’s the crud talking. I kid the Texans. Just Don’t Mess With My Nasal Cavities.