I begin to wonder what I'll get in the cab, but no, no such luck.
On the return trip there is a delay, so they offer free beer. The Flight attendant opens a fairly large jug of high end micro brew, but gets no other takers, which results in many free refills for me. 40 minutes later I get to the airport, and find it a challenge to walk without alerting security. I have 4 hours to kill before my connecting flight so I do some absent minded shopping. Airports have almost anything you can imagine in micro packs. 2 aspirin. 2 peptos. a single pack of alka-seltzer, tiny deoderent, a pre-pasted single use toothbrush.
I amuse myself by going shop to shop looking at all the mini offerings, and as I sober up slightly, I realize I am also hungry, so I try and find some decent food.
But, at this hour, the only place open is an airport sports bars that offers appetizers, and more booze. "When in Rome" I figure, and take a seat in the corner.
"Make it tall" the menu says "1 dollar more".
A seductive printed whisper seeming to wink at me from the page decorated with nachos, hotdogs, hot wings and margaritas.
"a shot on the side!" it coos, "only a dollar".
"a shot on the side!" it coos, "only a dollar".
It's like a strip joint for your sobriety, a lap dance for the liver, and I oblige.
My connecting flight is late, so the flight attendant gives me a couple bottles of Courvoisier, on the house.
Expensive brandy and a mini bag of pretzels. I down them, and then drift off into uneasy dreams of dimly lit theaters, and wake up in a different state, still flying.
Expensive brandy and a mini bag of pretzels. I down them, and then drift off into uneasy dreams of dimly lit theaters, and wake up in a different state, still flying.
The lights are low, and I can hear soft snoring around me. The flight attendant is back with another bag of pretzels,
"Another drink sir?"
I manage a sleepy smile. "Sure" I say, and look out the window. The twinkling lights below seem to have star filters, making each pin point a brilliant firework like display. She hands me twin bottles of Brandy, and as I fumble for my wallet, she waves it away with a smile and a wink.
"After Hours" she says.
I don't argue.
I pour the bottles into my plastic cup, and then whisper a toast to no one in particular.
"To flying"
"Another drink sir?"
I manage a sleepy smile. "Sure" I say, and look out the window. The twinkling lights below seem to have star filters, making each pin point a brilliant firework like display. She hands me twin bottles of Brandy, and as I fumble for my wallet, she waves it away with a smile and a wink.
"After Hours" she says.
I don't argue.
I pour the bottles into my plastic cup, and then whisper a toast to no one in particular.
"To flying"
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