Real men carry their own bags and the total takeover of AirWorld by dweebs towing their luggage behind them is now officially out of control. Overhead bins have been lost to them, every retard who steps out of the plane and into the jetway is begging for a solid kick when they stop, lean back, retract the spiffy telescoping handle, and roll on their way while I am hard charging to make my connection right on their heels.
Then it’s squeaky-squeaky-squeaky down the industrial carpeted concourse, briefcase and waterbottle laced through the retractable handle, falling off half the time, once again causing a pause to recover and begging for another boot of the old Bally in the butt. Again, real men use their hands, shoulders and backs; burn some calories, or pack their baggage like a Sherpa.
Then there are the Bluetoothed Borgs — sorry, unless you are driving in a state that forbids the use of a cell phone in a car, headsets do not make you look cool — people talking on headsets in public look like a maniac on the median of Park Avenue preaching at the big shiny skyscraper — talking to themselves about uncovered electric outlets and behaving like full-on candidates for an aluminum foil turban. Borgs and Wheelie People are usually one and the same.