drivers wanted

wednesday, december 26th
i arrived at love field an hour and a half before my flight, per billy's suggestion, and wandered past automatic rifle-wielding marines to gate 4C. no one prodded my tennis shoes to see if they were made out of plastique. i would have been quite surprised had they been discovered as such. seems like running on C4 explosive would be a bad idea.

i was told that i would have to wait thirty minutes to check in. the two flights to hobby scheduled to leave before mine were delayed. no one was surprised. i checked in at 8:00, first in line. southwest airlines hands out little boarding placards with numbers indicating your boarding group. i always seem to end up with something in the seventies. not today, though. i'm first in line, dammit.

"we have room on the 8:00 flight which is leaving in about 45 minutes."

i glance down at the short pile of grey plastic cards. number 72. my eyes shift to the tall pile of orange cards. number 1.

"no, i'll wait, thanks."

for the first time ever, i'm number 1. it feels good to be number one; but it's weird. you don't want to flaunt your numero uno card. everyone always looks at the guy carrying the 1 card and thinks, "that asshole probably got here two hours early just so he could get the first card." i admit, i was jonesin' for that card. but i hid my wealth. i tucked it away in the front pocket of my carry-on and sauntered off to buy some skittles.

thursday, december 27th
i spent the majority of my time in houston visiting car dealerships. going through the same bullshit at each place. "how much is this car?" "well, how much do you want to pay?" it was frustrating.

melanie was this sweet, pretty saleperson at west houston volkswagen. as my dad said, she was "built like a brick shithouse," a simile more suited to distant times, but accurate none-the-less. i really wanted to buy a car from melanie. i wanted to buy a couple of cars from melanie. she must sell a lot of cars. i couldn't bear to break her heart. she was just too sweet. but then joe came in and ruined the fantasy. he stunk of brut and i couldn't draw my eyes away from the teeth jutting out of his mouth in a dozen different directions. he talked fast. and he never answered your question, he would just change the topic. i just wanted to talk to melanie again. where the hell did she go? is she seeing another customer?

the harp
since my family likes to turn in early, i decided to go see alison at work and say hi. the place was empty when i pulled up and i began to worry that i was in the wrong place. i verified that alison was indeed an employee there, but that she was not working that night.
alison called me moments later and invited me to meet her and shaun at the harp. as alison noted, i was very quiet and mellow that night. but between the on-again off-again spitting rain and several black russians, i was able to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the smiths with hanh and listen to shaun do impressions of all the germanic and romance dialects of europe. he's quite good.

friday, december 28th
more of the same. car dealers, half-truths, and too-good-to-be-trues.

i missed my flight back to dallas. but i made it back safely with my new friend. she doesn't have a name yet, so feel free to give me nominations.