A Monthly Column for Strip Las Vegas by hilarious and sexy comedian April Macie –sharing her travel journals of her performances for the U.S. troops overseas with a patriotic blend of sex, comedy, and military in-between.
A few months ago, Delta Airlines attempted to charge soldiers $200 a piece for extra bags as they were returning home from Afghanistan (a bill totaling more than $2800). After a huge public backlash, Delta immediately changed their policy. This is my letter to them…
Dear Delta Airlines:
GO F@*K YOURSELF!
I am a comedian, so flying twice a week (sometimes more) is a necessary evil. I’ve always said, “I am not paid for the shows. I am paid for the travel.” Why? Because traveling sucks a duck dick! I don’t know if ducks have dicks, but if they do – traveling sucks it. While I am thankful for the Wright Brothers and the magic of flight, I am not thankful for the layovers, delayed/canceled flights, and missed connections. It’s the destination people are after, not the early morning or red-eye flights… Taking two hours to get through lines… Being patted down by some surly, overzealous TSA employee with unstable eyes and a beekeeper beard… Then, getting through security, only to find overpriced bottles of water and shitty pre-packaged paninis being served by angry airport employees on the other side… Unless you’re a child, or have severe developmental delays, flying isn’t fun – flying is work. Much like the military, most of my days on the road are a monotonous routine. But unlike the military, I rarely do anything that ever constitutes real work. Most days, I roll out of bed around “noon-thirty”, saunter to a Starbucks (or another coffee shop of similar ilk), scribble down a few jokes about balls (a.k.a. man grapes) to make myself feel slightly productive. Then, after wandering aimlessly around the streets of whatever town my schedule lands me, I go back to my room, watch internet porn and fiddle my bean before I put myself down for an afternoon slumber. I wake only to feed, shower, and rub the sleep lines off my face, so I look like a respectable woman for showtime.
Thanks to the men and women of the United States Armed Forces, I now understand the meaning of a hard day’s work, and what I do for a living ain’t it. Since traveling overseas, I’ve learned hard work doesn‘t involve: high thread count sheets, an eight-hour turn around (in the entertainment industry, that is the required amount of time before you can start the next work day - eight hours), or a midday diddle-nap. Delta, a hard day’s work involves… Waking up before the sun is up to work, in 110-130 degree heat. (That’s the kind of heat where you resign yourself to having a very sweaty ass ALL day… even immediately post-shower).
Imagine… You’ve just been away from home for a year, working in that heat, wearing fatigues (Those things don’t breathe! I suggested a nice summer linen to a few commanding officers but I didn’t have any takers), and carrying gear in a war zone. Delta, you remember a war zone, right? It’s that place where you’re surrounded by people who want to kill you.
Now imagine…
You missed Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or whatever you celebrate in the winter season,
AND Thanksgiving…
AND your daughter’s birthday…
AND your twenty-year wedding anniversary…
AND your son’s graduation…
AND someone took a shot at your head two days ago…
AND two days before that…
AND you might have lost a friend or two this year…
AND NOW… IMAGINE… YOU JUST WANT TO GO HOME!
It is a process flying home from a war zone. It’s not like you just jump the first commercial flight from Kandahar or Mosul, and poof, you‘re back in the states. First, you have to take a military flight, and then, get processed to leave. Returning home is a long and arduous journey for these men and women. A few months ago (right around the time you were trying to squeeze a lil’ extra cash out of some soldiers), I was attempting to fly from Ali Al Salem Air Base in Kuwait to Iraq to entertain some soldiers. My belongings were palletized, I put on my Kevlar and helmet (one soldier said to me, “You know you got the old shit, right?” I guess they didn’t want to waste the pricey flak jackets on the comics) and we boarded a bus to sit on the flight line and wait for our plane. We waited… And we waited… And we waited… And we waited some more. Then, after seven hours of waiting, we were told we couldn’t fly out due to sandstorms and limited visibility. We were taken back to a holding tent where, guess what? We waited some more. As comics, we found ways
to entertain ourselves. We told jokes about an HIV positive dog named Mr. Lickles, had Kevlar pole dancing competitions, and stuffed our gullets with Otis Spunkmeyer muffins (muffins, bbq chips with Arabic writing, and a can of a mystery food is all they were offering in the holding tent). After only a few hours of sleep the night before, and what seemed like an eternity of waiting, I became delirious and kept shouting to the other comics, “Will one of you eat this god damn kiwi before I shove it up my own ass!” while wagging a half-eaten piece of tropical fruit and wearing a neck pillow shaped like a pig. I’m not sure if it was ever funny, but our exhaustion made it hilarious. Finally, someone came back to tell us we would be staying for one more night and they ushered us to a tent for a few hours of sleep and a few more hours of waiting. As entertainers, we were free to leave the holding area for the comforts of a cot and a scratchy blanket, but most of the military men and women just slept on long rows of hard, airport-style benches. Waiting… And waiting… And waiting… And waiting some more.
Delta… Don’t you understand?! They’ve already paid for their extra baggage. They were just at war! The extra baggage is an emotional one; one that deals with loss, tragedy, and horror. Delta… Why don’t you and your corporate greed donate some of those 5.7 billion dollars in profits you and the other airlines have been charging for “extras” to the men and women of the United States Armed Forces who are simply WAITING TO GO HOME.
Sincerely,
April Macie
(Stand-up comedian. U.S. citizen. Human being.)
This article/travel journal is a monthly tribute to the men and women who serve in the United States Armed Forces. If you enjoy your freedom (and I know you pervs do), donate anything you can to support our troops. Here are a few charities I like:
WoundedWarriorProject.org • FallenPatroitFund.org • USO.org/donate
DONATE! YOUR TIME, YOUR MONEY, YOUR SOCKS (just not the ones you use for this magazine... new ones), ANYTHING! PUT THE PORN DOWN AND REMEMBER WHO FIGHTS FOR YOUR FREEDOM TO BUY IT! SLV
Issue 62 featuring: Aiden Ashley, Jana Jordan & Jenny Ryan |
