hot coffee girl

I was on the shuttle from O’Hare to the Marriott, and who decides to board but this guy who looked like a total asswank. Bluetooth earpiece firmly imbedded and Dockers creased within an inch of their cotton being…he just exuded asswankishness.

Looks were not deceiving.

The minute he got on the shuttle, he punched a number into his cell phone, and asked for Governor Riley. (Who the fuck this is, I do not know or care.) So, he says to the person on the other end, well, then you need to page Governor Riley. But he kept saying “Governor” so loudly…like we were all supposed to be fucking impressed that he was calling some stupid Governor. He must have dropped the call, or gotten hung up on, because he furiously punched the number in again, and barked into the phone that he was “waiting for Governor Riley and he needed to speak with him now.”

That was it.

I dug my cell phone out of my bag, and pretended to punch in my own number.  After a beat, I said very loudly, “Yes, I need to speak to Governor Wigglebutt.” Pause. “Yes, Governor Wigglebutt. Could you please page Governor Wigglebutt?”

My fellow passengers snickered as the asswank snapped his phone shut and glared at me.

After dropping everyone off at the first Marriott, Willie the Shuttle Driver got back on the bus. (I am not certain at this point if they were all supposed to get off there, or if they just wanted to get away from Crazy Girl Who Pages Governor Wigglebutt.) Either way. When the Willmeister returned from unloading his passengers' bags, he said, “I guess everyone left you.” I said, “Yep-just you and me, Willie.” He said, jokingly, “So, you wanna go somewhere?” And I replied, “Yeah-how about a hotel?” He turned and said, rather surprised, “Really?”

My answer, “Uh, yeah…isn’t this the shuttle to one?”

He didn’t talk much after that, either.