How strange that you, of all of us, would prove to be the most hopeful.

Speaking of Big, though he has retired as an active blogger, he contacted me recently about a spleen-venting guest spot. Said he:

I have been traveling more than any sane person should over the past couple of weeks.

Sept. 21 through 23 – Cincinnati, OH to serve as a groomsman in a dear friend’s wedding.

October 4 through 8 – San Diego, CA with my family for a personal vacation.

October 10 through 13 – Washington, D.C. for the Society of Plastics Industries’ National Board Meeting.

October 15 through 19 – Evanston, IL for a seminar on governing family businesses at Northwestern University. (While at the same time my wife and one-year-old daughter went to Palm City, FL to see my mom).

Oct. 20 through 23 – Mt. Everest, Nepal for low-O2 training for my planned assault in 2009.

Okay, I made that last one up.

But it doesn’t change the fact that in a very short period of time, I have taken eight plane trips, rented two cars, stayed in four hotels and watched 37 in-room adult movies.

I am going to burn in hell. But my infernal berth will be NOTHING compared to these a**holes:

THE RECLINER: This is the complete jag-off who reclines his seat without warning, shattering my kneecaps or at least tearing my meniscus. I’m 6’2”, and I only have approximately .0002 of an inch of clearance behind the back of the seat as it is. But this guy, he’s pissed that he’s not on British Airways on a trans-Atlantic flight, having leggy English lasses rub almond oil on his tired feet. So, because he doesn’t get a complimentary glass of champagne and blow job, he decides he’s going to invade MY space. Even though this happened to me TWICE, I both times resisted the temptation to form my empty can from my complimentary warm soda into a shiv and slash his jugular from behind. Instead, I just got up, loomed over the offender’s seat and pissed all over him.

Actually, I politely but seethingly asked both assfaces to move their seats forward, which they did, sighing as if I had asked them to donate part of their liver to Keith Richards. Way to go, buddy. You’ve managed to be only as much a jerk as the rest of the world. I’ll call the Nobel Committee.

THE COURTESY PREBOARDER: When my wife and I travel, we have a stroller, a car seat, a diaper bag, a camera bag, and a squirming toddler. The person who invented the phrase “Any passenger needing a little extra time to board” was thinking of ME. (Also the physically handicapped.) But we were invariably beat to the front of the courtesy preboard line by a thirty-something business traveler with a tiny briefcase and a cellphone or an amateur triathlete with nothing but an iPod and a copy of Runner’s World. These people don’t need extra time to board. These people should be helping me and my family board. They will get to hell and be surprised their rooms are one step below people who take handicapped parking spaces.

THE SECURITY LINE CUTTER: Often the same kind of creature as the Courtesy Preboarder. Businessmen who have much more important places to be watching in-room porn. Wannabe fashion models who are openly disgusted with anything as messy and healthy as a baby. Twentysomethings who have yet to figure out that the world doesn’t care that they are totally up on the music scene and “discovered” the music of the Ironic Bastards waaaayyy before everybody else.

Here’s the scene. My wife and daughter are traveling alone, and all the while they’re in the security lane, some eggsucker is trying to sidle past them. When my wife manages to body-block the guy with the stroller, he ends up right behind them at the X-ray machine. My wife loads her stuff on the belt (unassisted by Mr. Man-of-the-Year) and walks through the metal detector. (Remember, all this time she is holding our daughter.) She gets through the metal detector and grabs the stroller off the belt and opens it up. She puts the baby in the stroller and turns to reach for the rest of her stuff, when Assholio steps IN BETWEEN my wife and my daughter. My daughter freaks out because suddenly, her mom disappeared. The guy took his shoes and briefcase and takes off.

I told my wife, when she told me this story, that I would have killed him where he stood.

No court in the world would convict me.

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