May 15, 2008 20:05
So I'm sitting in an airport.
Yes, an airport.
Why?
Because I'm going to get on an airplane, of course.
Yes, I have a perfectly good reason for getting on that airplane.
His name is Clayton.
He's my man-thing.
He's a man-thing because he's too old to be a boy-toy.
You have to be over eighteen but under twenty-one to be a boy-toy.
So he's my man-thing.
Airports are neat places to sit.
All manner of people.
The guy on the next row of benches with the little white laptop (I think it's some manner of Mac) looks much like a young Jackie Chan.
A woman just walked buy carrying a child who looks very tired, very crabby, and very sunburned across the cheeks.
There's a little old man with a brown leather briefcase sitting all by his lonesome at the gate next to mine..
At the other end of the row of benches is a little old lady.
If they were closer together, I'd think they were a couple.
On the same row of benches as me, there's another old lady.
She's eating a sandwich.
Across from me is an Asian businessman.
Yep, lots of people.
Note to self: no more posts when I've had no sleep. They don't make a lot of sense.