Lancaster Snippets, Part 1

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So this first part isn't exactly in Lancaster, but it is the journey towards, so I'm weaseling it under the title. The second leg of the flight confirmed my suspicions that all you need to travel First Class is plenty of moolah (or unused miles). There was this crazy character that sat about three rows ahead of us. It was bad enough that it was one of those old people who dress like they're present day teenagers, but this lady also LOOKED all of 85, which wasn't pretty. I was itching to point her out to my parents (horrendous platinum blond wig and all), but that proved hard as we couldn't quite get away from her until we were all out of the airport. The last thing I wanted to do with my jet-lagged brain was go "LOOK MA, IT'S THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON!"

The second story is our first night at the local hotel, where we'd been before and had a good time. This time, however, we managed to get a craptastic room: stains on the carpet, paint peeling from the ceiling, a slightly acrid smell, and the most uncomfortable couch I've ever sat on. To compound the problem, at least 5 flies managed to find their way into the room, and we were having a hell of a time trying to get rid of them. I got a few of them by hand (Thanks for the technique, gramps!), but we finally called the front desk and asked for a flyswatter.

So I was expecting one of those cheap, plastic numbers that seem to have a top speed that's just a tad slower than the fly, but I was surprised when they brought us the mistress of all flyswatters. This sucker had a simple, coiled metal handle and, I kid you not, a tooled leather swatting end. This thing had WEIGHT. I tried it out on one fly and the room rang with one of the loudest THWACKS! I've ever heard. The hilarious thing was, I found that I no longer heard any more buzzing from the rest of the flies in the room, and I had to work to hunt them down. A couple of loud noises later, our room was free of flies. We got moved to a far better room, but we're holding on to the swatter for good measure.


Enough, More Later.
- James