Airport People Watching

I’m sitting at Gate C3 for a flight that was supposed to take off nearly three hours ago. After realizing that I would be spending a good portion of my day here, I wasn’t going to pass up this great opportunity to people watch. International airports are by far the primo venue for people watching, with Wal-Mart as the only other contender.  

After sitting in this same seat for hours now, I’ve managed to catalogue some of the types of people that you will encounter on your next trip to the airport.

The Confused Asian Family

They can’t seem to find their way out of a paper bag. Donning large multi-colored visors and fanny-packs, both mother and father try to navigate their way through the concourse with large maps as their children follow 15 feet behind them. Judging by the tone of the father’s Mandarin, (or maybe Japanese. Or Korean. Fuck if I know the difference) he’s yelling at his wife, probably because she gave him shitty directions in the first place. I can only assume they found their gate…or the Panda Express.

Black Guy Wearing a Bluetooth

This guy must be having the best conversation of his life with his friend Trayvon because he is laughing his ass off, giving zero fucks about the people around him. Faithful Bluetooth users like this guy are often mistaken as schizophrenics when people-watchers, like myself, don’t notice the small flashing blue light coming from their ear. When I first saw this guy I said to myself, “Oh shit. Another crazy black dude having a full fledged conversation with himself.” (Which is not that unusual considering that this is the Cleveland International Airport). If you ever end up sitting next to this guy waiting at your gate, avoid all conversation. You never know if he’s talking to you or Trayvon.

Creepy Guy Wearing a Fedora

No one really knows how this dude got through security but he managed to scrape by looking creepy as all hell with his fedora and his Harry Carey glasses. I can understand if this description was for a really old dude who just wants to die in peace. But this creeper is barely 40 and looks like one of those sex offenders you see sitting in a kitchen with Chris Hansen. Try to have your escape route planned if he attempts to sit within 10 feet of you.

The Businessman

He’s the master of all air travel with platinum status and a perfectly packed rolling carry-on. He’s constantly on his iPhone and doesn’t give two shits if he accidently knocks over your $6 cup of coffee (which the fucker did to me. He didn’t apologize either. He just casually said, “That’ll be a tough cleanup.”) Fuck this guy.

White Couple With Too Many Children

Birth control was never an option for these fools. Carting around 5 children under the age of 6 to a fucking airport is a trip straight from hell in my eyes. Their snot nosed children run around the gate like it’s a goddamn Chuckie Cheese while mom is busy feeding the youngest and father-of-the-year over here is playing Angry Birds on his iPhone. If you’re lucky enough to be on the flight with this family you better have the valume on standby.

The Couple That Look Like They’re On The Amazing Race

Unless you’re on a month long journey though the Appalachian Mountains, there is essentially no need to have all of your belongings in huge hiking backpacks at a fucking airport. Just like our confused Asian family, they too have maps out and checking their surroundings, probably looking for their next clue or to find the nearest Whole Foods to stock up on some kale.

The Overly Authoritative TSA Officer

Going through airport security is already the biggest pain in the ass of your trip, and this guy is out there to make it even worse. This police academy failure most likely ended up here after his Mom kicked him out of her basement after he was fired from being a mall cop. He’s the dude that gives everyone dirty looks no matter their gender, age, size or color. Forgot to take off your belt before you went in the scanner? Well your fucked, because this guy over here is trained to believe you’re a terrorist and is about to cavity search your ass.

Terrorist hunting 101.

Next time you head to the airport you might want to pause the iPod and people watch. It’s a very culturally liberating experience. But take my advice: do it at a distance. You don’t want to attract any of these fuckers who may have a question regarding directions or just wanting to talk to you.

I hope they serve scotch on the plane.

-Ron Brogundy

Respect the Cinco

“Twas the night before Cinco de Mayo, and all through the cabana,

No music was playing, not even Santana.

All three of our families all slept in one bed,

While visions of citizenship danced in our heads.”

The first weekend in May has always been one of my favorite American holidays. Yes, I said an American holiday. To much of the world’s confusion, Cinco De Mayo is celebrated more in the great USA than it is to our brownish neighbors in Mexico.

Yes, I actually took the time to research this shit. Well, by research, I mean Wikipedia-ing the term “Cinco-De-Mayo”. Turns out, 4,000 Mexican troops kicked the shit out of 8,000 French fag soldiers on May the 5th in 1800-something in a small town near Cancun. So basically, this holiday is celebrating the defeat of the French, which I am more than happy to drink to.

But why is this holiday even celebrated in America when our asses weren’t even there fighting? Well, fuck if I know and neither does Wikipedia. They said it was something “cultural”. Yeah, cultural in the sense that millions of them are now living here and most likely mowing my lawn as I type this. But this holiday did bring something great to shitty convenient stores near you: the new Bud Light Lime-a-Rita.

Did you think the BL Plats were a game changer? Well here’s their Mexican cousin

Budweiser has had an amazing year when it comes to mixing up the beer game. The BL Platinums are in all honesty the biggest game changer of 2012. Their newest concoction is not beer, yet does not contain any tequila. It falls under that semi-retarded category that Four Loko’s are considered, which is more commonly known as malt liquor.

The label says “served best over ice”. Yeah, so is premium scotch. Would you drink your Four Loko out of wine glass? That’s what I thought. So I decided to crack it open and chug. My first thoughts were not that bad. The 8% alcohol by volume is kept under control by the sweet marg flavor. And I couldn’t really taste any beer. The thing that caught me most off guard was the size. It’s an 8oz. can, similar to the size of the tomato juice your grandma is forced to drink in her nursing home. Not exactly sure what Bud was thinking when they put it in this miniature can. Easy storage/transportation/shotgunning? Or maybe for grandma? Again, fuck if I know.

The size comparison. I switched to the Patrón after I finished my BL Ritas

Well, I’m already five BL Ritas deep as I’m writing this article, and they’re getting the job done. That Patrón though is staring at me… Here’s my final take on Bud’s newest creation: Bros, only drink them on the Cinco. Other than this upcoming fiesta, make sure to leave the BL Ritas for the slams.

-Ron Brogundy

He's Ron Brogundy? A Rookie's Debut.

Ahhh, it’s the last week in Oxford. Everyone has summer on their minds. Freedom, maybe a source of income, but mostly planning trips to friends’ beach houses where heavy drinking and other shenanigans will take place. But there is one giant cock block preventing you from truly enjoying these glorious summer days. FINALS.

That heavy procrastination period after Spring break and the Tuesday through Saturday binge drinking sessions with your bros are starting to catch up to you. A slight panic attack ensues when you realize that your inventory of adderall is starting to diminish.

The thought of actually sitting down and studying without the assistance of modern chemistry is eating you from the inside. To your surprise, you find that your reserves are in the black and decide to head to King for your 12-hour study session that you hope will be almost comparable to that of an Asian bio-medical-engineering student.

The exam that you will be sexually assaulting in the morning won’t even know what’s coming. But for the rest of the week, you need some serious planning. How will you use the rest of your XR reserves? Will you hit up the bars and celebrate your conquering of the dreaded exams? Well it’s only Wednesday fuckers. Here’s my mid-week guide to help all of you enjoy your last week in the OxBox, and how to not fuck up your life with exams.

1. If you’ve already left Oxford, fuck you. Yes, we all understand that you only had 2 exams and they both happened to be on Monday. We get it because you told everyone you fucking know, making everyone around jealous on the outside. On the inside we’re all thinking, “Wow, you get to go home early and hang out with your cool ass community college friends for three to six more weeks until all of your real friends who actually go to college come home. I’m really, really jealous.”

2. Snag a table at King Café to get your shit done. The solitary confinement of the third floor is reserved for the previously mentioned token Asian kid. You’ve got one more week with your bros. Study together.

3. Don’t go to Kofenya. Unless you want to be surrounded by liberals, geeds, hipsters and the art history majors.

(If you decide to go there, do me a favor: tell the long-haired-tattooed hippie behind the counter that Japanese poetry sucks dick and that we won the war.)

 4. Sell your goddamm textbooks. I listened in to a conversation between two geeds in line at Dividends a couple of days ago. This is what I recall:

 Geed 1: “You know, I really think I should save my Accounting book. I mean, it could come in handy in the future.”

Geed 2: “Yeah that’s a good idea. So much better than selling it to some, like, corporation.”

  Selling your textbooks, after buying them at the beginning of the semester and maybe using them twice, is a genius, almost magical concept. Early in the day you have a 300 page worthless hunk of tree, filled with equations that resemble something only the previously mentioned token Asian kid would understand, and it has the potential to be transformed into 20+ shots waiting to be ripped at Brick.

Long story short, don’t keep your books; sell them for booze.

5. Stay in Oxford even if you’re in the same boat as the bitch in number 1. The perks of going home early at this point outweigh your last week of raging. Savor your last week with your bros, get shitfaced at as many bars as possible, maybe meet some new slams, eat at one of the nicer establishments, and try new things. You’ll be away from this place for almost 4 months. Leave your mark. A Sunday afternoon departure never hurt anyone.

All of this daydreaming sounds nice on this word document and in my brain. But really, get your shit done. Daddy’s connections only go so far when you’re looking for job in the real world. Get some level of a GPA that, if the decimal place were moved, would be a kickass BAC.

-Ron Brogundy