And the boys of the NYPD choir were singing 'Galway Bay'

[cyrano]

So I really hate people who don't use their turn signals to change lanes. And I really really hate people who brake on the god damn fucking freeway on ramp because they're trying to get me killed. I shouted a lot on the ride home today, and it made me feel much better. Work was stressful, lots of passengers and not a lot of agents, and lots of passengers who said they wanted to fly somewhere and then decided not to bother. This is why airlines oversell their flights. Which they did. But there was also chocolate, and hazelnut steamed milk.
Um. I guess that's pretty much everything.

Comments

[ambar.livejournal.com]

Welcome home. (If you remind me where Chez Cyrano is, currently, I could drop cookies by on my way out to my place.)

[cyranocyrano.livejournal.com]

Stately Wayne Manor is tucked away at that point where Santa Clara, San Jose, Milpitas and Alviso all come together, just off 237 by the Great America exit--4902 Calle de Escuela in Santa Clara.
Cookies! Yay!

Swearing at Traffic

[(Anonymous)]

I'm Miss_Friday at the ancestral home. I'll bother logging in when I go to post the stuff I just typed.

[Pause to curse the itty-bitty laptop screen.]

Cursing at traffic is your God-given right. And, with proper practice, can vastly improve the creativity and imagination of your cussing. Plus it makes you feel better. It makes me acutely aware of the immense variety of stupidity on this green earth.

[Pause to cuss at the stupid laptop touch pad.]

Re: Swearing at Traffic

[cyranocyrano.livejournal.com]

Welcome home, hon. Looking forward to seeing you on Saturday. (:

[lil-m-moses.livejournal.com]

I totally sympathize with you on the freeway on-ramp stoppers. That's how I totalled my first wagon. Some moron decided they needed to stop their freaking SUV in the middle of the on-ramp for no reason at all, and I, being 4 cars back, didn't have time to figure out that s/he as at a DEAD STOP before rear-ending the guy in front of me. And now I will refrain from sounding like a sailor over that 6+years gone event.