Demon Alcohol

A lot can happen in a month.

Picking up from here, I spent a crazy day at work to wrap up three dozen loose ends, at least half of which legitimately required a day's effort. As my flight time approached the skies opened up and sent things (and traffic) into a tailspin. I made it to the airport on time, and S delivered my last minute gift purchases which I'd left in his car. There were nearly twenty French students catching the same flight, and as pretty as the girls were, I grew tired of their incessant babble. But, motherland beckoned, right? I dismissed the cellophane wrapper guy like a pesky mosquito and checked my bags well ahead of time. I was underweight by several pounds, and that's a first in more ways than one. Security was a breeze, I didn't even get "randomly selected" for a pat-down.

Since I had so much time to make my flight, I decided to get a few drinks in. I'm sure drinking heavily on an empty stomach before a trans-continental flight is a great idea and I found the bar closest to the gate. "Double shot Jameson on the rocks, easy on the ice", I bellowed as I set my incredibly heavy backpack down. For some reason that drew attention from at least 3 blondes around me, and that was another first. "Nice", a lady of a slightly older persuasion muttered with a smile, and a significantly younger 'un said "I shoulda ordered that". The ladies have never been kind to me, and I'm sure looking like a creepy foreigner doesn't help. Since I haven't been single for a couple of years, I feel no pressure while making conversation at bars these days. I even had a choice this time so I picked the younger one to clink glasses with. Another lady was was asking her questions about a Dallas flight but she was dismissed quickly in my favor and I felt like an engineer on the verge of... something geeky.

At this point, I was aware that

1) I wasn't going to meet her again, I could say whatever the fuck I wanted
2) I was drinking on an empty stomach, things would sound interesting to me no matter what.
3) she had the look of a "closet Republican" on her and this would indeed be *lot* of fun.

We spoke about her destination, her travel plans - visiting an ailing relative. I told her mine - travel to India. Sure, there was more to it, but why get there so soon? I was wrong about the closet Republican part - she was pretty liberal, so dang, no fun there. I did try to stir shit up about white folk having to be overtly politically correct, but no dice there. Alcohol fueled time acceleration got us talking about a lot of interesting things, and soon I had an offer to visit her place in CO, a few miles North of my home. No, it wasn't for anything carnal, but see what no pressure on a guy does? In any case, I didn't want things to get awkward so I told her about my good lady and my intentions to propose. This must have eased the pressure on her too (yaay, creepy foreigner doesn't want to copulate with me), and she opened up about her love life.

I find it amazing how most people around me are so candid about their lives. Makes me wonder, is it because they're honest, or because they feel they won't see me again? Why is it that strangers can talk about finances, family and lost love but clam up when it comes to politics? Anyway, my new friend gave me her contact info. which I promptly lost in a week. Heck, I'm not even sure what her name is anymore.

Thoroughly buzzed, I sauntered off to the gate just in time for boarding. Good thing they don't let you make calls during take off, I was so ready to drunk dial everyone I know.  First question I was asked when we were airborne? "Do you need a drink, sir?" Why, I certainly do.