The Mile-High Pub

09:24, 19 June 2003

I felt like I was in a movie, bellying up to the airport bar to get a little drunk all by myself with other people getting drunk all by themselves. What a weird bar atmosphere. It is a little strange when the bar is full of drinkers reading books and magazines, not talking to each other. It is also strange when there is no music but rather the melodic voice of the P.A. announcing that the drunken louts in the Hollywood, CA tourist tee-shirts are going to miss their flight to Des Moines.

I sat at the bar for half an hour, downing two double rum & diet Cokes and reading Bright Lights, Big City, which I found to be a very entertaining book. It was quite a page-turner as well, since I started the 200-page book in the bar and finished it as we were flying over Oklahoma.

I'd brought some food from home to eat on the plane, since you never can trust the airline to provide viable food options. My suspicions were confirmed when the airplane "snack" was some sort of Hot Pocket with what was described as smoked turkey and mozzarella cheese, some carrot sticks, SunChips and a cookie. I ate the cheese and turkey out of the Hot Pocket and put the carrots away for later. Continuing with the "travelling alcoholic" trend, I washed my snack down with two mini-bottles of red wine.

Briefly, fleetingly, momentarily... I missed Piyush. No, don't get mad at me! It was the wine! I swear! And it was only for five minutes. I got over it. I didn't miss him so much as I wished I had a travelling buddy. I've always wanted to take a trip with a boyfriend. OK, so I know that he's not my boyfriend, but I really think that flying on the same flight would have been good for us, would have helped fix this weirdness. Plus, I could lean my head on him and drool on his shoulder as I slept. Wouldn't that be lovely?