30 May 2013

Post #86

A few months back (February 14th) Southwest Airlines, the goddamn pioneers of the sky, knew that I needed a Valentine.  And boy did they deliver, drink tickets...four of them.  Those thoughtful angels.  So when I received a correspondence from them yesterday I got a tad bit excited.  They knew of my impending trip to Cali for Independence Day, and wanted to surprise me with a couple more tickets for free booze.  Turns out it was an early birthday card.

You squirelly bastards!  How many half-assed poured, free drinks this time?  5?

Not a single, f-ing drink ticket given.  The goddamn, puddle-jumping assholes at Southwest decided that a thoughtful birthday card signed by 31 of their employees (yes I fucking counted) would suffice.  Oh, but then I read the fine print...

Thanks Vijaya (If i ever meet you I will call you Vagina), Dwayne, and Stacy, etc. for the "gift".
Are you shitting me???

Apparently, the card doubled as a receptacle for my bombass birthday photo located in some exotic location.  Kudos guys, you rock!  Wait...there is a back to the card that requests I add my 3.5" x 5" photo to it, and then if I choose to do so hashtag it to Twitter.  You stingy turds couldn't even bust for the 4"x 6"?  

Alright fine.

@SouthwestAir #RRbday #goingonthemantel #wherearemydrinkticketsandluggage?

Thus sums up the first birthday card of my impending doom.

Up, up, and away,

Katie E. Eshelman

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