“Dude!”
“Dude?”
“Dude. Are we, like, ever gonna get on this plane?”
“So maybe you should, like, chill, dude. Like you’re the only dude in the world who’s heard that the surf’s up in Hawai‘i.”
“Awright awright. But, dangit! They’ve let on the first class passengers, an’ the Whatsis Platinum passengers, an’ the Howzis Gold passengers, an’ the passengers with frequent flyer miles, an’ the passengers with upgrades, an’ the passengers with little kids, an’ the passengers whose kids were little during the freakin’ Civil War, an’ the passengers who’ve got a pretty good imitation of a bad leg. They probably let on half a dozen people who’ve got some perk that they just made up. When the hell do they let on the dude passengers?”
“Sheesh, dude. General boarding will start in a minute. They just said so.”
“I heard that, dude! An’ I’ve got as much respect for our soldiers as anybody. I mean, like, whoa, dude, they’ve got guns! But what good’s that gonna do us? Generals? I don’t even see no privates in this waiting room!”
“Good thing too, dude, ’cause that would be way TMI. Not to mention ug-lee. Though there’s a chick over there by the wastebaskets that I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a, uh, closer look at.”
“Last thing you ever saw, dude, ’cause she’d probably claw yer eyes out.”
“An’ you could do better?”
“Maybe I could, dude, if I could impress her by actually managin’ to get on this plane. Now? I never heard of no generals who go surfin’, an’ I don’t know how come I gotta sit here an’ wait for ’em. Dude? I ain’t gettin’ board here!”