Clearing Out Some Old Posts

I typed this post just after going to New Orleans. I was going to chronicle the whole journey, but never really got around to it. Anyway this is sort of a cop out, but I might as well post the little bit that I wrote about.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

It's off to the airport to take a quick flight to Denver followed by a jaunt to New Orleans via United Airlines. I've always been fascinated with airports just because of the people. It's a great slice of Americana anytime you are in one. This day didn't seem to be any different.


Actually the action didn't happen until we were on the flight, but we were in one of those smaller air crafts that have two seats on each side. My seat mate is Roberto. Roberto is nice enough as he says "hi" as he sits down. But he quickly becomes pretty squirrely. Once we get in the air and the "fasten seat belt" sign is turned off he's up and about. I think he heads into the restroom, but quickly returns. He pulls out a magazine that appears to be in French. I'm doing my best to be nosey without actually making it obvious.


He reads the magazine for about one minute before he's out of his seat again and checking his overhead bin for his bag. He pulls something out of his bag and then sits back down. His left leg (nearest me) is shaking up and down quickly. I think he had the jimmy legs. Then he's out of his seat and off to the bathroom again to:


A. do coke

B. do speed

C. smoke crack

D. shoot meth

E. swallow amphetamines

F. all of the above


Roberto (if that is his real name) returns and pulls out a bunch of papers to look at. Again trying to be inconspicuous it looks like he has something to do with the military. His planner says joint military something or other. I'm just hoping he's not the one that pushes the red button. If he were in charge I'm pretty sure the Middle East would cease to exist. I'm beginning to wonder if the guy is a spy. Maybe he's the French 007.


The drink cart comes by and he orders a vodka martini (shaken not stirred). Hmmmm. Actually he gets ice for his "water" bottle. I don't even dare to think what he has in there. It's either:


A. Jolt Cola

B. Red Bull

C. Rockstar

D. All of the Above


Sorry for the abrupt ending but that was as far as I got. Also on this same flight the two ladies sitting behind me were talking quite loud so I got to know both of them more than I ever wanted to.

Why do people share their life story with complete strangers? Is there something about an airplane that makes us feel like we need to open the "vault"? Do we trust complete strangers over our closest friends and family members?

Something about airports and airplanes and probably the anonymity of it all makes us vulnerable. Let's just say that Roberto and I were as close as friends by the time our flight was over.