You know for some reason I’m beginning to dislike winter. It’s #@%&**&!! snowing again. I think we here in the land of clinical psychosis boredom zoo have already had more total #@%&**&!! snow than we have had in the last five years. Except for that one day, yes it was a Tuesday when we had 58 #@%&**&!! inches of fairy poo snow. It came down in buckets, cats and dogs, with thunder and lightning (very, very exciting), #@%&**&!! snow covered bovine where falling from the sky, giant icy igloos the size of Oprah Winfrey, and mukluk covered Nanooks bouncing all over the yard. The roads became impassable, the Governor declared a Def-Con 4 emergency, lots of moronos had to be rescued from their cars and 18 wheeler baby buggy stompers on the freeway. Unfortunately a number of them (about 12 dozen) were accidentally run over by the cops who were using APCs as emergency vehicles. Finally the Governor took some much needed action and declared that the state was now located below the Mason-Dixon Line and warmer days would soon be here. They were, about four months later.
As for me at that time, I had it easy, almost. I was stuck at the airport, I had a ticket in my furry paw that said ‘destination Acapulco’. If the #@%&**&!! snow had just waited 35 minutes I would have been gone, and laughing as I was carried away into the majestic sunshine. But it didn’t, for 372 million hours I was trapped in the airport. You ever been trapped in an airport? Don’t be. It’s scary as you watch humanity descend into the primal abyss, backwards into the George of the Jungle days. It’s like Planet of the Apes, except without the scantily clad hotties, at least they were fully clad for the first thousand hours. The first warning sign of total collapse is that all the hard as concrete plastic chairs are all occupied, some of them have two or three families in one chair. Some are used as foot stools by leather clad bikers. Do not ask them for the chair, this is a warning. I saw for myself what happens when someone does. It was a blue haired old lady that asked for the chair, she must have been about 180 years old and about 65 pounds. She was roasted, toasted, sprinkled with Bar-B-Q sauce and eaten within eight seconds. You’ve been warned.
The next signs of the total collapse of a civilized society is that all the airplane blankets are taken, as are the marshmallow sized pillows. Then the pay phones don’t work, and the airport personnel mysteriously disappear, where do they hide? Then the toilets backup and gush like Trevi fountains spewing forth brown sludge that walks upright. So much water starts to fill the airport that even Moses couldn’t part it. By hour number 146 it’s now unsafe even to venture within 10 thousand feet of a vending machine, unless you have an Uzi, with six mags. Don’t even think about going near the coffee or gift shops or the restaurants. They were looted, sacked, pillaged and burned within the first 36 hours by frequent flyers who know what’s about to happen and have learned from experience to get what you can fast and horde as much as possible, and that tabloid magazines really do make excellent toilet paper.
I’m not really sure what happened next, but I’ve heard stories about that day. About human sacrifices to the Sun Gods, cannibalism, Hungarian midgets forced to have sex with mimes, babies sold for a cracker. It must have been horrible. As for me, I found a safe hiding place, in an unlocked janitor’s closet. Just before locking myself in I grabbed a drunken stewardess (hey it might get cold). Then I welded the door shut using a quarter and a Bic lighter (I learned how to do that from watching MacGyver). When I was finally rescued and stepped into the fluorescent lighted causeway, I was shocked at the images before me. It would have made Romero proud. There was blood everywhere, half-eaten arms and limbs on the floor and hanging from the ceiling. A nightmare scene.
Of the 8,631 persons that were believed to be trapped within that airport, only 27 were found, I was one of the lucky ones. What happened to the stewardess? I don’t know, maybe she escaped through a trap door or something. But I can truthfully tell you that Drain-O can be used to cook with and that window cleaner is not as poisonous as everyone thinks. Cotton leaves a bad after taste, as does silk. Rayon and polyester are not too bad if eaten with hand soap, and metal buckles and zippers need a lot a chewing.
So as I look through my window watching the #@%&**&!! snow, I’m reminded of that day. And I keep a careful watch on those around me...