Wednesday, December 06, 2006

The Mod Squad

I was on this beautiful three day trip. It was awesome. My crew was cool. We were like The Mod Squad. One blonde girl, one Russian dude, and me. We bonded like glue and would walk through the airport terminals all in a line next to each other with our roller bags.

We were out at our West Coast base, which shall remain nameless. We are East Coast based, and the two bases think they're rappers and we often clash. As me and the mod squad are walking through the terminal as if we are on a mission, other West Coast crews are whispering and pointing. "They're from (East Coast Base which shall remain nameless.)"

Our uniforms are the same, but at our base we break all the rules. I wear big hoop earrings, Russian dude wasn't wearing his required jacket, and Blondie, had her hair blowing in the wind. I think our West Coast Base is more by the rules because that's where our corporate headquarters is located.

We roll down to a flight attendant break room, and we don't know the code to get inside. Russian dude knocks on the glass door to a male flight attendant who is on the computer. This flight attendant gets up, walks across the room, and then points to a sign that reads, "Same Code as Crew Room." He then walks back to the computer and sits down.

Russian dude bangs on the door, and says "You've got to be freaking kidding me! Let us in! We're not based here, we don't know the code!" The male flight attendant lets us in, then tells Russian dude, "Shut you're pie hole!" Then Russian dude says, "You want me to shut you up? Lets go right here!" The other flight attendant shrank back to his corner.

Never have I heard anyone older than ten say "Shut your Pie Hole". For the rest of the trip, anytime my fellow Mod Squadder said anything, I told him to shut his pie hole. Hilarious that East Coast, West Coast rivalry.


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