i don't believe in hell. it just seems so cruel and mean to even consider a place so hot and humid. and if it does exist, shouldn't we use all those souls roasting in eternal damnation for something positive? like an alternative energy source?
that aside, i do think there's a cold, stark, desolate place unsavory characters should go, and that place is gate c 37 of the chicago international airport. having been trapped there on more than one occasion, i can personally testify that nothing will break you down faster, and systematically make you more thankful for life's simple pleasures than a nite spent in the continental hub.
it is rehab for the soul. with planes.
so that's it. my version of hell. a cold, fluorescent lit concourse with cheap tile floors. and a chance for redemption.
that being said, here's a few folks who may deserve to spend some time there.
the loud talker
usually most guilty while talking on a cel phone, drinking a latte and driving/walking/shopping, sometimes all at the same time • have no idea that 'laser' technology makes celphone mics really, really sensitive • flamboyant, spastic gestures confirm they don't understand that when you're on the phone, the other person isn't actually there • unafraid to blatantly voice their opinion about anything, except how annoying loud talkers are • generally not good with secrets or sensitive personal information • thinks everyone is from a foreign country or deaf • have no idea they're making your ears bleed.
the skimmer
too busy, self-important, self-absorbed, or selfish to read anything more than the subject line of your email, even if it's about your dying gramma and your dramatic epiphany • may actually have add or adhd, but just come off like an a@#hole • really likes pictures and emoticons • scrolls thru voicemail to see who called, but never listens to messages • owns dvd copy of 6 minute abs, but only got thru the first half • is usually spinning in office chair, looking out the window or watching tv when you're talking • likes texting, short walks on the beach, george bush • stopped reading this about five minutes ago.
the pessimist
believes all music is terrible, everyone is crazy, and crime rates are always on the rise • hates npr • only drinks straight black coffee, preferably strained thru wool socks • writes letters by typewriter • carries the aroma of heavy ointment • once became aroused just thinking about andy rooney • waiting impatiently for death to slowly put them out of their misery • likes egg salad samwiches • will ironically die from salmonella poisoning.
churchys
convinced only they and members of their particular group will be saved when the end is nigh • understand the concept of right and wrong, just not in this instance • have no idea there are about 4200 other spiritual sects, twelve of which are recognized as major world religions • are really bad at math and statistics • have no idea the pope is an animatronic puppet • strongly believe i'm going to hell just for writing this • will have lots of company.
the others...
writers from the last episode of seinfeld • the folks who killed the electric car • everyone involved with the invention of the treadmill • tight pants • darth maul • homophobes • and cats, lots of cats.
