All Times PST

3:15 a.m. – Wake up in a hotel bed in Nashville, TN.  Shower, perform basic hygiene functions, dress.

3:45 a.m. – Leave hotel.

4:00 a.m. – Arrive at Nashville airport.  Discover that the airport exit leads directly into the airport without passing a gas station where I can refill the tank of the rental car.  Make a snap decision that fuck it.

4:30 a.m. – Clear security.  For some reason got waved through the old-fashioned metal detector rather than the full body scanner that gives you cancer*.

4:30 – 5:30 a.m. – Look for souvenirs to take back to family.  Nothing for the kids.  Everything too country and/or western.  Gibson cafe does not sell shirts in kid sizes.  Almost buy Taylor Swift guitar picks.  Settle on box of Moon Pies.

5:30 a.m. – O HEY flight is delayed due to ice at the first stop.

6:00 a.m. – Boarded plane.  Got a window seat in the next to last row**.

6:20 – 8:00ish a.m. – “Slept” off and on, sort of.

8:10 a.m. – Arrive in Dallas.  Stay on plane while other people get off.  Once uncrowded, get a new seat, window, row 3.

9:00 a.m. – Leave Dallas, pleased that nobody has decided to occupy the middle seat.

12:15 p.m. – Arrive in Orange County.

1:00 p.m. – Arrive with spouse and children at Disney California Adventure.

1:00 p.m. – 8:30 p.m. – California Adventuring time.  Realize too late that box of moon pies will probably be melty sitting in the car all afternoon.

9:30 p.m. – Arrive home.  Enjoy a beer

10:00 p.m. – Make and enjoy a quesadilla***.

11:00 p.m. – Falling asleep while trying to write this post.


* So I’ve heard.

** Southwest, so no assigned seating.

*** Quesadilla is not in the WordPress spellcheck dictionary.  WTF.

How I Meet Women

Not the actual teen from my flight.

What few highlights I have, from my recent trip, involve the accidental abuse of an underage girl.

I was already boarded on the plane and listening to music on my MP3 player. I didn’t have the volume too high to hear the people around me but enough to tune them out. Sitting in my aisle seat I waited for the last few people to stow their literal baggage so the rest of us could get on with our lives. Yes, I was impatient to get going – in the smallest commercial jet I’ve been in.

A blonde girl, most obviously still of high school age, was decked out in her post-punk attire. Including white boots, layers of light jackets, tight pants, belly ring, and platinum hair wth low-lights. I remove the strap of my military map case (perfect for an eBook reader) only to accidentally get it caught on the chair arm and my hand slipped off. At that moment the blonde teen was putting her luggage right above me and so my elbow, slipping off the strap, gave her a quick forceful jab to the crotch. Without hesitation she leaned forward, her face in mine, both hands on her crotch, her headphones slip off her skull, and she says in a loud whisper, “fuck me with an elbow!”

So of course she was assigned to the aisle seat across from me. I apologized sincerely and was forgiven in the form of updates on pain-level; she made the entire flight with her hand on her crossbeam.

* No Sky Marshall or TSA agent got involved