I didn't get to bed last night until 1am, which left me with 2.5 hours of sleep before I had to beat my alarm clock into submission and drive 1.5 hours to the airport. I took a quick flight to Memphis, to lay over for an hour before heading to my final destination of Salt Lake, for the Winter OR show. However, my hour layover became 4 hours, as our plane is grounded at LaGuardia. Shit. It really wouldn't be so bad, except I have to sit here surrounded by frantic people who are yelling into their cell phones, apparently hoping that someone will pull a new plane and crew out of their ass. I'm not gonna sweat it though... I've found a pleasant side effect to this waiting game.
Have you ever noticed that when you're alone in a public place, for any length of time, that women who wouldn't normally warrant a second glance, are suddenly smokin hot? Maybe I just harbor some airport fantasy that I'm not consciously aware of, but I swear I've looked longingly at 14 different women in the past 10 minutes.
Make that 15. I'm suprised her daughter let her out of the house dressed that way.
At least every 3rd woman who passes by has my attention. I've been here a few hours already, so of course I've already decided on a few "regulars". There's the extremely distraught Daddys Money Ski Bunny who yelled at her mother on her iPhone that she "could never sleep at a time like this". Its a crisis, I imagine. The powder may completely melt before she makes it to Utah. Regardless, I'm positive she would make beautiful babies.
Then theres "Blue Dress". In fact, I could say those 2 words to any male (or female) within 20 gates of my seat, and they'd know who I mean. I first saw her in the food court. She smiled at me in between bites of some cubed potato product smothered in ketchup. I'm suprised I caught the smile, as I was sure my gaze was fixed on the plunging neckline of her dress. Evening gown. Electric blue. Its 9am at the airport lady. Oh well. Thanks for that.
And now the mom that just walked by a few minutes ago. She's been by 4 more times. She's tugging along a cute little curly haired girl (proof positive that she makes beautiful babies) with one hand, and pulling some $300 designer bag that I couldn't possibly fit my ipod into with her other. I'm going with the theory that she makes her money herself, because I'm certainly in the market for a sugar momma. She said hello.... and she has that southern drawl that melts me. Of course, the rock on her finger is at least 2 pitches tall. I'll just pretend I don't see that...
In a few hours I'll (hopefully) make it to SLC, and it'll be the same deal all over again. A convention center filled with hot, athletic women who like to get dirty, but that'll be another blog altogether.
For now, I'm just excited to see who I'm sitting next to on the plane...
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1 comment:
dude, just found your blog and you are SO right about the whole "airport, hot ladies, some weird fantasy" angle.
nice blog..it's on my RSS.
looking forward to some good climbing posts!
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