And we are off....

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I love to travel. Why? It's really hard to explain. At least hard to explain in short Reader's Digest condensed stories that capture the readers attention. It must have something to do with all the things that can't be read about but must be experienced. Like the watching the Lavatory Vehicle suction out the pee and poop out of an airplane. Now that's not something you see everyday. You think about things you don't typically think about in a given day. Like, "What's that guys job title?" and "Is he wearing gloves?" and "Do you suppose he has to place the yellow trash can under the hose connection to catch the drips/spills?"

Then there is the group of three young men, probably in their twenties watching everyone in the bar. They are actually doing well at keeping their laughs and snickers to a minimum. The head turning almost appeared choreographed when the buxom bleach blond woman walked in. She's hard not to notice. Probably twice their age and fighting back the angst of aging like the rest of us.

But by far the loudest group is probably about 12-15 people gathered in the corner. I haven't figured out what the common connection is yet, but I'm pretty certain we are all on the same British Airways flight. I'd like to get to know this group. The ring leader, a 50+ year young man, has already turned his cap around backwards and is getting a little flush in the face. He has worked hard for this vacation no doubt. Now is time to shirk the 7a-6p responsibilities and have a grand time starting with the departure.

Ok, so you've figured out by now that I'm sitting in the terminal bar. Would you believe me if I told you the bar has free Wi-Fi? Seems appropriate to start my vacation with a couple of farewell to Texas drinks, a Ziegen Bock and margarita. (Btw, take care not to drop the margarita salt into your keyboard.)

I should probably mosey on down to the gate. I'd hate to miss the flight.

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