It’s six o’clock on a Friday night. A ridiculously attractive female sits at gate E9 in the Philadelphia International Airport Terminal waiting for her Southwest flight. She could already be home, but being the kind and giving person she is, she gave up her seat on that flight for someone whom she can only assume had multiple disabilities, was a veteran, elderly, and pregnant. But she doesn’t care;, she’s just that good of a person. (The voucher worth more than a free flight on future Southwest travel never entered her mind). She is richer than when she arrived at the airport, full of wine and fajitas, and happy as a clam and yet she scowls and crosses her frigid blue arms over her ample bosom.
Why? Because it’s so GD cold in this freaking airport!!!
Businesses across the land, heed my advice: Just because it’s 90 outside, doesn’t mean we want it to be 15 inside. That blast of cold air feels good for about 2 seconds and then we cool off, and then we freeze, and then our nipples cut the glass of the airplane windows, the plane loses all function, and we all die! Do you want that on your conscience? DO YOU?! I can assure you that air that is even 10 degrees colder will feel good when we walk into your building. It’s summer and most of us aren’t equipped with warmer clothes to throw on above our skimpy shorts that accentuate our increasingly chiseled legs (thank you, boot camp!). Turn it down a notch. I feel like I’m in
Antarctica, sitting in a bath of icy hot in a
wind tunnel, while eating a snow cone. Enough!
On the plus side, I was feeling pretty flushed after that TSA molestation, so maybe you had my best interest at heart. So thanks, or something.
A Haiku about my experience:
Sitting in the coldNipples turning hard; cut glass
Care to warm them up?