I awoke this morning at 4:30am (Korean time) and like a six year old kid on Christmas morning could not fall back asleep. So after several hours of bullshitting around in my apartment for several hours, it was finally time to head off on my journey home to America.
After a brief walk, I arrived at the “airport limo…” forget that, airport bus stop. There among the masses awaiting the arrival of the bus, I spotted a Korean kid clad in dirty sweat pants, sporting a rat tail hairdo. Not even half past eight and I’ve already encountered my first jerk. It was going to be a long day.
The bus ride itself was fairly uneventful, but upon arriving at Incheon International Airport, I found lines like you wouldn’t believe. Now I understand that lines are a part of going to, well…anywhere, so I can deal with them. What I can’t deal with is the fact that apparently no one knows how to get a boarding pass at the airport. Seriously guys, how difficult is it to present your passport, ticket, and hand over any luggage you want checked?
In my case, the lady asked to see my alien registration card, and even with that unexpected level of scrutiny to my documents, I was ready to go in less than two minutes. Some other jerk was at the counter when I arrived at the airport and when I was going through a metal detector some 30 minutes later he was still standing there like a moron digging through his luggage…if you are that dumb, don’t travel.
Moving through the metal detectors, I encountered my next Herculian labor: attempting to get to the boarding gates. Here there was another check point, and again insane lines. Somehow I end up in the line with a group of 5 or 6 old Germen men, all of whom are unable to locate any of the travel documents they need. Hey assholes, didn’t you have to present the exact same documents like 30 minutes ago when you got your boarding pass? What the shit happened?
Anyhow it is finally my turn at the counter. I hand over my documents where I learn that apparently one of the infected cunt hags at immigration forgot to stamp the multiple re-entry stamp into my passport (inspite of being paid to do so). Fuck! I’m one of those guys!
“No worries,” says the nice man sporting epolettes, “There’s an immigration office right over there.” So I tear ass over to the immigration office.
Apparently I am a lot like the Incredible Hulk when I am angry, only instead of turning into a giant green monster, I can speak Korean really well. So I busted out copious ammounts of Korean to the immigration officals, explaining the situation at hand. Five minutes and 30,000원 ($30US) later, I had a stupid stamp in my passport and 15 minutes to get on my plane. There was no way in hell I would be able to get through the check point again (since the lines had grown since my immigration debacle). The nice immigration offical ushers me through the diplomat immigration check point (apparently a lot less diplomats were traveling then jerks today).
I thanked him and tore ass like the unholy offspring of Dan and Dave from the Reebok commercials / Barcelona summer Olympic games. Sitting down in lovely seat 42C a scant five minutes before the alleged take off time, I realize I am completely surrounded by screaming, crying pricks, and by pricks I mean babies.
During the course of the flight, I decided that when I become Supreme Overlord of the Universe, I would make it illegal to travel with infants. Either that or require all airlines to add another class. So it would be: first class, business class, economy, and then baby class. Baby class would be like the steerage class of yore. Down in the bowels of the ship airplane, with all the rats and um….Irish immigrants, wait this isn’t Titanic, but I digress, since I am not Supreme Overlord of the Universe, I’ve decided that next time I fly I’m going business class. At least then if there are screaming kids I can act like an indignent bastard about it.
The actual flight was fairly uneventful / boring (which is a good thing when it comes to air travel). I did witness several extremely odd things while flying across the world though. First off, at one point I witnessed the main screaming prick undo his mother’s belt, and start yanking her pants down while he was standing between her legs…it looked so wrong. Second off, in flight we were subjected to some truly horrid “entertainment,” but among the “Ice Princesses” and specials about 1920s automobiles we were treated to a Inter-Korean (North and South) musical concert, and let me tell you, nothing says “Totally awesome!” like North Korean 아줌마들 (middle aged women) with 80’s metal guitars (cough B.C. Rich cough cough) playing ballads. Third off there was some white trash kid on the plane who did not seem to have any sort of master overseeing him. He spent the entire flight crawling around in the aisle and chasing a broken plastic cup he was throwing about. I stepped on him since he decided the space directly next to my chair was the best place to be loud and annoying. Fourth off, the guy sitting next to me put his carry-on in the overhead compartment, sat down, and fell asleep before the plane even took off. He remained asleep at all times (save for meal times).
13 hours later, it was 11:30 am again and I was in America. I passed through immigration quickly, since for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t an immigrant. I then moved on to the next issue, baggage claim. I knew I would be there awhile since I am always like the last person to collect my bags. My suitcase is always the last one off the plane. This I know, and this I have come to accept.
For some reason the luggage carrosel was on the fritz. There’s not really a lot that can be done. Yeah it’s annoying, but it’s not really anyone’s fault and there’s not a whole lot the airport employees can do while it’s being repaired. Some large white man with bad tattoos, fat gut, and a shaved head bellows what would have to be the best line of bullshit ever: “THIS IS FUCKIN’ BULLSHIT! 13 HOURS ON A PLANE AND NOW THIS?! LAND OF THE FREE MY ASS!!!” Apparently having to wait is limitation on one’s person freedom.
Finally the thing starts up, and my bag comes shooting down the conveyor belt. I grab my luggage, and go out where I meet up with some delegates from my family: my mother, one of my sisters, and my aunt. After mandatory hugs, we drive upstate to my hometown.
In the past two years, my hometown changed a lot. There were tons of new shopping complexes, and eateries, and stupid traffic lights that did not exist when I left the country. In my neighborhood, all the trees were super gigantic now, but the weirdest thing to see was my brother. He was in high school when I left, and now he was a man. He was way too tall and had a man voice, and it was odd.
After my length trip the family and I had some barbeque and then I spent the rest of the evening telling tales of East Asia, and hearing tales of family…that and playing random GameCube games with my brother and sister.
