I’m at the Seattle-Tacoma airport waiting for my connecting flight to Portland. Maybe someone more skilled in Expedia-Fu could’ve hunted down a non-stop flight but hey, I scored a cheap upgrade to first class and enjoyed leg room, warm nuts, and hot towels during my five hour flight. (I didn’t mean that to sound dirty – it just came out that way.)
Of course I can’t see Seattle though the terminal windows, but it’s out there somewhere in the mist. A passing maintenance workers told me it’s roughly a twenty-five minute drive away. Oh well, maybe I’ll get to see it another day. Now I’m just praying the mist doesn’t turn to snow and delay my trip.
I’ve got some time to kill so maybe I’ll walk over to the nearby bar and and sample some “Alaskan Beer,” whatever that is. Or maybe I’ll stick with water. I stayed up last night watching The Blue Brothers with my roommate an a couple of vodka tonics. (I get nervous the night before flying.) When I woke up this morning I forsook H20 for a half gallon of coffee and paid the price. By the time I was airborne and the plane’s ventialtion system desiccated my skin, I noticed my fingertips were wrinkled like they had been submerged for over an hour. Lack of elasticity in the epidermis is a bad sign. Luckily I got all the water I needed in first class. By the time I was over Idaho I was pissing like a racehorse. (My apologies to my seat mate for getting up so often and knocking my water all him. I’m not a savvy air traveler. Those fancy-schmancy trays in first class are too complicated for me!)
Okay, I’ll stick with water. I’ll need my wits about me. My next flight’s on a puddle jumper. I think it’s a prop job. But if they shout “contact” before the place starts I’ll probably order something from the bar cart. Maybe I should just hit up my internist for Xanax before I fly next time. God I hate turbulence.