Ferry Follies

Maybe it's because of my pounding headache or profound exhaustion but this ferry is full of assholes.

The departure lounge features a twisted, 14A version of a family sitcom featuring a mother yelling at her kid as he innocently plays with her suitcase. Tyler, you will break everything inside that. NO! DON'T OPEN IT! The child is unfazed, but I can't help wonder what underlying psychological damage is developing from this discouraging parenting failure. Maybe there's something... private... in that suitcase...

In the boarding lineup, I am brusquely nudged by a mid-20s Ed Hardy advertisement wearing enough makeup to turn Oscar the Grouch into Miss America. Resisting the urge to punch it in the teeth, I turn my cheek only to be blockaded by it's D&G bag as I try to walk through the doorway. Honey, just because your track suit has tattoo flash all over it doesn't mean it can fix your face.

Resigning my stomach to another 30 minutes of waiting rather than join the cafeteria sheep, I get stuck behind a wheezy altecacker with a waxed moustache who seems to find every inch of the ship utterly fascinating. I mutter excuse me and weave across the corridor like a quarterback looking for an opening. Of course, by the time I get to the front lounge, all the good seats are gone.

After a couple laps of surreptitious surveillance I park across the bench from a Grisham pulp fictionist and an UGG trendonista with an Apple sticker on her Dell (the irony!). Though she isn't using the plug above her head, she's placed her colossal dufflebag on the seat next to her and spread her possessions around like a plane crash.
Sorry, I'm just going to grab the plug up here...
Can you get an extension cord? *Ignore*
sotto voce: An extension cord? On the ferry? You couldn't offer to exchange seats or something? I guess i was right about the sticker thing. It's not ironic, you're just stupid. *Blithely plugs in*

Fuck you, Vancouver on the ferry running 30 minutes late. You can suck my goddamn nuts.