Just my luck. Woke up a couple days ago with a terrible chest cold. First one since 2004. At least it waited until near the end of my visit. But I need to get this cough under control before I go to the airport; many times now they will put you off a plane if you exhibit signs of a severe cold or flu.
There were several people on the flight from Nashville to Minneapolis that were coughing rather badly, however, so maybe I can skate through. Or may be I should just drink a bottle of that bad ass cough syrup just before arriving at the airport. Get all wired up on it and hijack the plane to Cuba or somewhere.
Nah, that’s doesn’t sound like a good idea. I doubt Fidel would welcome me with open arms. Or Raul, either. And the powers that be also won’t let you on the plane if you appear wasted.
That’s a change from the days of old, when I used to spend all my extra time at the airport in the lounge. I’ve been poured on a few flights. Had a terrible verbal run-in with a flight attendant once on a flight from LA to Memphis over the change I had coming back from a C-note, which I’d used to buy a round of drinks for myself and my seat-mates. Screamed at and cursed her, called her a fucking crook.
Yes, I was juiced totally. She was trying to cheat me out of my $90 or so. No need to “wait until we land” to get my change. She had a pocketful by then, from all the drinks she’d served. God knows how much extra money she picked up on the side with that scam.
That wouldn’t happen nowadays. They merely land at the nearest airport and take your ass into custody for “interfering with a flight crew.” Federal lockup and looking at long years in Slam City. It doesn’t pay to look at a stew sideways. They have you by the short hairs. A little provocation and they will pull.
Hell no, I don’t need that change. You keep it. Here’s my wallet, if you need any more just grab it. I would give you my credit card too, but I lost the son of a bitch! My bank account number? Sure, you got a pen? Here ya go....
I was talking to Gwen last night. She said there was a possibility of snowflakes on the old home range. Damn, gonna be a dab of weather shock, going from this warmth back into a typical Tennessee winter.
Oh well, I’ve weathered a bunch of them. I’ve enjoyed my trip, but have the feeling it’s time to get back home and back into the saddle. Lots of work to do.
I have to find that rhythm I had over the summer, when I wrote two books. Get back into the flow of things, stay on schedule.
I can do it, because I have. But it’s not the easiest place to get back to.
There were several people on the flight from Nashville to Minneapolis that were coughing rather badly, however, so maybe I can skate through. Or may be I should just drink a bottle of that bad ass cough syrup just before arriving at the airport. Get all wired up on it and hijack the plane to Cuba or somewhere.
Nah, that’s doesn’t sound like a good idea. I doubt Fidel would welcome me with open arms. Or Raul, either. And the powers that be also won’t let you on the plane if you appear wasted.
That’s a change from the days of old, when I used to spend all my extra time at the airport in the lounge. I’ve been poured on a few flights. Had a terrible verbal run-in with a flight attendant once on a flight from LA to Memphis over the change I had coming back from a C-note, which I’d used to buy a round of drinks for myself and my seat-mates. Screamed at and cursed her, called her a fucking crook.
Yes, I was juiced totally. She was trying to cheat me out of my $90 or so. No need to “wait until we land” to get my change. She had a pocketful by then, from all the drinks she’d served. God knows how much extra money she picked up on the side with that scam.
That wouldn’t happen nowadays. They merely land at the nearest airport and take your ass into custody for “interfering with a flight crew.” Federal lockup and looking at long years in Slam City. It doesn’t pay to look at a stew sideways. They have you by the short hairs. A little provocation and they will pull.
Hell no, I don’t need that change. You keep it. Here’s my wallet, if you need any more just grab it. I would give you my credit card too, but I lost the son of a bitch! My bank account number? Sure, you got a pen? Here ya go....
I was talking to Gwen last night. She said there was a possibility of snowflakes on the old home range. Damn, gonna be a dab of weather shock, going from this warmth back into a typical Tennessee winter.
Oh well, I’ve weathered a bunch of them. I’ve enjoyed my trip, but have the feeling it’s time to get back home and back into the saddle. Lots of work to do.
I have to find that rhythm I had over the summer, when I wrote two books. Get back into the flow of things, stay on schedule.
I can do it, because I have. But it’s not the easiest place to get back to.
No comments:
Post a Comment