Read Online It's So Hard To Type With A Gun In My Mouth by Steve Bluestein - Free Book Online
Authors: Steve Bluestein
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there she threw it in her bag, which now weighed the same as a small Volkswagen. I begged her to get rid of this crap. I was the one carrying the suitcases. "Please throw this shit out. " "No! I need them for gifts." "Gifts?" Who goes to Australia and comes back to say, "Here. I was in Sydney and I brought you a packet of EQUAL????"
The trip was two weeks of living hell. She was a human vacuum cleaner sucking up whatever wasn't nailed down. I was embarrassed beyond words but I made it, holding on to what was left of my sanity. Cut to the return flight. At this point we're not talking. I hate her and her 398 pound carry on and she hates me for not being an accountant. We're approaching LAX and we are so close to landing the flaps are down and the landing gear is being deployed. My mother rings for the flight attendant. She approaches and my mother says, "Can I have a deck of cards." And, people, it was the last straw and I go ballistic. Two weeks of pent up anger comes out in First class. "A DECK OF CARDS!!! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU NEED A DECK OF CARD FOR!!! OH I FORGOT YOU STOLE THE CARD TABLE FROM THE HOTEL. I'M SICK OF IT, YA HEAR ME...SICK OF IT!!!" I've pulled off my seat belt and I'm standing in the aisle. And now I look like a raving lunatic...everyone is diverting his or her eyes. The flight attendant is trying to get me seated for landing. I can see the headlines, "Comedian arrested on plane". My mother says to the flight attendant, "He's been impossible the entire trip."
We land and I bolt from the plane. I'm the first one at customs. My mother is about 20 people back and like Damien possessed me I say to the customs inspector. "I don't know if this is anything or not. But see that woman in the black suit. She's been acting suspicious the whole trip." Two and a half hours later my Mommy is still in customs. I can see her as the door opens and closes; they have the hotel towels and the alarm clocks (plural) and the brochures and napkins and smuggled fruit spread all over the counter. About 30 minutes later she comes out, suitcase wrapped in masking tape. She rolls right past me and turns. "I will never go to Australia with you again." And storms off to the taxi. I spend the next six months in therapy.
March 9, 2006 - MY FIFTIETH BRITHDAY
Ok, so now we all know what hell I went through on the first trip. It was a nightmare. So for my birthday, the following year, I think, "I just need some quality time with Judy, besides, it's my birthday. I've been a good boy. I've earned it" However, about a month before my birthday my mother calls to see what I'm doing on my "special day". "Oh I don't know. I think I'll go to see Judy". I can feel the ice forming on the phone. "Really... Judy, huh... well I think you should come to Florida and see me!" she orders. " Mom, it's my birthday and I want to go to Australia." Long pause... " OK, then you go to Australia. You do whatever you want, no matter who it hurts." I have never heard her like this. She has become possessed. It's like the Stephen King novel when the gypsy whispers the curse, "Thinner". And I get a chill down my spine... I know my trip has just been cursed. "Oh, don't be silly... what could she do, you ask". YOU don't know MY mother.
I have enough frequent miles to go to Sydney first class. But my friend, Dina, wants to go with me so I tell her. "I'll get you a ticket with my miles and then I'll contact one of my flight attendant friends and get a buddy pass (this was before 9/11) and I'll go with her." It's a long story, but I created a company that did plastic surgery for flight attendants and I had hundreds of flight attendants connections. And if I may add, flight attendants are the most under-rated class of people flying today. They bust their humps for slobs on airlines and get their pensions revoked as a bonus. In any case, I'm wandering.
So the day we are leaving. I put the dogs in the kennel and I close up the
The trip was two weeks of living hell. She was a human vacuum cleaner sucking up whatever wasn't nailed down. I was embarrassed beyond words but I made it, holding on to what was left of my sanity. Cut to the return flight. At this point we're not talking. I hate her and her 398 pound carry on and she hates me for not being an accountant. We're approaching LAX and we are so close to landing the flaps are down and the landing gear is being deployed. My mother rings for the flight attendant. She approaches and my mother says, "Can I have a deck of cards." And, people, it was the last straw and I go ballistic. Two weeks of pent up anger comes out in First class. "A DECK OF CARDS!!! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU NEED A DECK OF CARD FOR!!! OH I FORGOT YOU STOLE THE CARD TABLE FROM THE HOTEL. I'M SICK OF IT, YA HEAR ME...SICK OF IT!!!" I've pulled off my seat belt and I'm standing in the aisle. And now I look like a raving lunatic...everyone is diverting his or her eyes. The flight attendant is trying to get me seated for landing. I can see the headlines, "Comedian arrested on plane". My mother says to the flight attendant, "He's been impossible the entire trip."
We land and I bolt from the plane. I'm the first one at customs. My mother is about 20 people back and like Damien possessed me I say to the customs inspector. "I don't know if this is anything or not. But see that woman in the black suit. She's been acting suspicious the whole trip." Two and a half hours later my Mommy is still in customs. I can see her as the door opens and closes; they have the hotel towels and the alarm clocks (plural) and the brochures and napkins and smuggled fruit spread all over the counter. About 30 minutes later she comes out, suitcase wrapped in masking tape. She rolls right past me and turns. "I will never go to Australia with you again." And storms off to the taxi. I spend the next six months in therapy.
March 9, 2006 - MY FIFTIETH BRITHDAY
Ok, so now we all know what hell I went through on the first trip. It was a nightmare. So for my birthday, the following year, I think, "I just need some quality time with Judy, besides, it's my birthday. I've been a good boy. I've earned it" However, about a month before my birthday my mother calls to see what I'm doing on my "special day". "Oh I don't know. I think I'll go to see Judy". I can feel the ice forming on the phone. "Really... Judy, huh... well I think you should come to Florida and see me!" she orders. " Mom, it's my birthday and I want to go to Australia." Long pause... " OK, then you go to Australia. You do whatever you want, no matter who it hurts." I have never heard her like this. She has become possessed. It's like the Stephen King novel when the gypsy whispers the curse, "Thinner". And I get a chill down my spine... I know my trip has just been cursed. "Oh, don't be silly... what could she do, you ask". YOU don't know MY mother.
I have enough frequent miles to go to Sydney first class. But my friend, Dina, wants to go with me so I tell her. "I'll get you a ticket with my miles and then I'll contact one of my flight attendant friends and get a buddy pass (this was before 9/11) and I'll go with her." It's a long story, but I created a company that did plastic surgery for flight attendants and I had hundreds of flight attendants connections. And if I may add, flight attendants are the most under-rated class of people flying today. They bust their humps for slobs on airlines and get their pensions revoked as a bonus. In any case, I'm wandering.
So the day we are leaving. I put the dogs in the kennel and I close up the
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