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Friday, May 30th, 2003[ed.note: this entry written after a cross country flight and far too much Jack Daniels. I reserve the right to delete it in the morning...]
It’s raining. God, I haven’t heard rain in… well, long enough to forget how great it sounds. But now I’m hungry for weather… I want thunder, yeah, and lightning… the big crack and boom. That’s weather right there, good stuff. But for now just the sound of rain falling and the occasional -drip- as it falls from the eaves… that’s enough.
I can hear the trains as they roll by. I remember those trains from my youth. There is something so comforting hearing them roll by in the middle of the night , loaded with steel. It sounds cliche but I can tell by the distance of the lonesome whistle what street they are crossing. This blue collar town, in the middle of the rust belt, how I couldn’t wait to get the fuck out, now as an adult, it’s all so sentimental.
Back in my room. Well, not my room anymore.
I won’t get into very much detail about the flight back except to mention an interesting encounter at TGIFridays during my layover. Some fucked up guy, not drunk fucked up, some other kind of fucked up, decided that he wanted the woman sitting next to me at the bar. She = pretty, blonde, alone.
So he came over and just stood there. All creepy and way to close like. Not saying a word. He was nicely dressed in a suit, but had that “I’m middle management sales and I hate my life” kinda look about him… When I asked if I could help him with something he just blankly stared at me and pointed at the woman as if to say.. “How much for the girl?” I just stared back at him in disbelief. Thankfully, after about 2 minutes of “way too close creepy staring guy” an employee saw what was going on and dragged him away. So I struck up a conversation with pretty lady.
(Hey, gimme a break. After creepy guy, I had an opening that might have led to another hole punched in my mile high club card okay?)
Me: “That was wierd”
Pretty Lady: “Yeah, I’ll say”
Turns out the pretty lady sitting next to me was on my flight to small town USA and we went to the same junior high, small world yada yada… I escorted her to our gate and discovered that our flight was delayed. So I invited her back to the bar thinking that creepy guy had to be gone by now, only to walk up and see him being led to one of those glorified golf carts by two TGIF employees. That guy is going to wake up tomorrow and wonder why the hell he’s not in Buffalo.
Note to self: No matter how bad life gets, don’t take two xanax and go to TGIFridays at an airport and have 3 beers. No good can come from it, except you might get a ride in one of those carts!
Did I mention the graduation party down the street tonight where my mom decided to stand at the end of the driveway staring the kids down? Love that!
