Traveloti - Stemming from Illuminati. An elite group of travelers who look down on the plebs of travel.
A person who has more travel skills than any 500,000 tourists combined. With 20 minutes to boarding time this person can single walk up to the elite security line, breezily pass through the metal detectors with nary an issue, order and eat breakfast, shave, change clothes, and still be the first to board the flight. He will then, of course, sit in first class with his free upgrade and enjoy the free snacks and drinks. Upon landing this person quickly departs the plan and airport without reading a single sign or showing any hesitation.
Traveloti's look down on parents with their children, old people, tourists, and any other known form of inept traveler.
Upon two travelotis meeting, they immediately compete for superiority. This can happen when choosing the fastest line, vying for the last upgraded seat, or comparing status on airlines. Alternative methods of competition arise when the traveloti share travel horror stories. The closer to death the better ranking the story receives.
A person who has more travel skills than any 500,000 tourists combined. With 20 minutes to boarding time this person can single walk up to the elite security line, breezily pass through the metal detectors with nary an issue, order and eat breakfast, shave, change clothes, and still be the first to board the flight. He will then, of course, sit in first class with his free upgrade and enjoy the free snacks and drinks. Upon landing this person quickly departs the plan and airport without reading a single sign or showing any hesitation.
Traveloti's look down on parents with their children, old people, tourists, and any other known form of inept traveler.
Upon two travelotis meeting, they immediately compete for superiority. This can happen when choosing the fastest line, vying for the last upgraded seat, or comparing status on airlines. Alternative methods of competition arise when the traveloti share travel horror stories. The closer to death the better ranking the story receives.
Example 1:
Tyler: I have a backpack with over 500,000 miles on it. What about you?
Toby: You're such a traveloti!
Example 2:
Only a traveloti could pull this off:
I'm awesome because... I ran from terminal 1 to terminal 2 in the Munich airport and made it through two security checkpoints and a pat down in under 30 minutes to catch a flight. Now that's award worthy. The security guard that told me I must run had the look in her eye that I was likely not going to make it. But she was the hottest blonde German security guard I could imagine. It was a solid 2 mile distance and I had to try and follow the signs and basic instructions from a security guard. Hint, you have to leave the airport to get to terminal 2 or wait for a bus that runs every 20 minutes. SWEATY MESS described me by the time I reached the plane. I was one of the last 10 to board.
These times are not an exaggeration (40 minutes maybe, but the distance may have been longer), but I did have some people movers along the way which allowed me to keep a good pace with backpack and laptop. The hardest part was trying to pick a pace that would work for that distance and the weight I was carrying as well as factor in present endurance.
Tyler: I have a backpack with over 500,000 miles on it. What about you?
Toby: You're such a traveloti!
Example 2:
Only a traveloti could pull this off:
I'm awesome because... I ran from terminal 1 to terminal 2 in the Munich airport and made it through two security checkpoints and a pat down in under 30 minutes to catch a flight. Now that's award worthy. The security guard that told me I must run had the look in her eye that I was likely not going to make it. But she was the hottest blonde German security guard I could imagine. It was a solid 2 mile distance and I had to try and follow the signs and basic instructions from a security guard. Hint, you have to leave the airport to get to terminal 2 or wait for a bus that runs every 20 minutes. SWEATY MESS described me by the time I reached the plane. I was one of the last 10 to board.
These times are not an exaggeration (40 minutes maybe, but the distance may have been longer), but I did have some people movers along the way which allowed me to keep a good pace with backpack and laptop. The hardest part was trying to pick a pace that would work for that distance and the weight I was carrying as well as factor in present endurance.
by Reighlan October 5, 2010
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by ΔиłĦ☼иצ ߀₡ʞ September 26, 2010
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by negroponti July 2, 2009
Get the travelon mug.Some say it thirsts for blood; others say it is an innocent implement forced to do the bidding of murderous fiends. A disturbingly recurrent murder weapon, the Travelling Shovel Of Death appears in multiple different mediums (Usually novels), wherin it is featured murdering an innocent victim.
Henry knew his street well, but he didn't like it. The parameters stretched; the shadows hid secrets; the wind, ever restless, tossed the cloaks of strangers who glared from street corners. But he was sure in his safety. He knew the number of steps to his doorway. He knew where to lift his feet a little higher to avoid tripping on sidewalk cracks hidden in the dark. He knew who to avoid - at least he thought he did, in his naiveté.
A cat was waiting on his doorstep, that night. Dark, soft fur, long legs and a thrumming purr, yellow eyes glinting with reflections of far-off streetlights.
It smiled, sharp, glistening teeth ever white against the shadow of its fur.
In 42 years, Henry had never once seen a cat smile. Perhaps a trick of the light, or an illusion, he thought. Or maybe not. He knelt, looking the cat in the eyes.
It smiled at him, wider.
Wider.
A shadow moved; soft leather brushed against carpet, and a coat loosened its folds. "You're drunk again," said the voice. "Do you know, Henry, how much I dislike drunks?"
The cat hadn't moved; Henry glanced to the side, and caught a glance of soft brown shoes.
"Mr Woon," he slurred. "Ian. Mate. I just..."
He stopped.
Mr Woon smiled at him; a slow, langorious smile, not unlike that of his cat.
Then slowly, deliberately, he rested the shovel's tip on Henry's neck.
"I dislike drunks very much, Henry," he whispered.
Then he put his foot on the travelling shovel of death, and pushed down.
A cat was waiting on his doorstep, that night. Dark, soft fur, long legs and a thrumming purr, yellow eyes glinting with reflections of far-off streetlights.
It smiled, sharp, glistening teeth ever white against the shadow of its fur.
In 42 years, Henry had never once seen a cat smile. Perhaps a trick of the light, or an illusion, he thought. Or maybe not. He knelt, looking the cat in the eyes.
It smiled at him, wider.
Wider.
A shadow moved; soft leather brushed against carpet, and a coat loosened its folds. "You're drunk again," said the voice. "Do you know, Henry, how much I dislike drunks?"
The cat hadn't moved; Henry glanced to the side, and caught a glance of soft brown shoes.
"Mr Woon," he slurred. "Ian. Mate. I just..."
He stopped.
Mr Woon smiled at him; a slow, langorious smile, not unlike that of his cat.
Then slowly, deliberately, he rested the shovel's tip on Henry's neck.
"I dislike drunks very much, Henry," he whispered.
Then he put his foot on the travelling shovel of death, and pushed down.
by WillohWisp September 22, 2011
Get the Travelling Shovel Of Death mug.by no fools February 26, 2015
Get the travolting mug.Dude, we went to Cabo last week. The plane was late, they lost our luggage and the hotel had no record of our reservation - total travelsty.
by Mr. Snyder March 29, 2011
Get the travelsty mug.Did I remember my passport? My phone charger!? Experiencing an extreme case of travelagita right now!
by Rachel712 March 25, 2017
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