what you don’t want
Sitting in eleven a, I was waiting for b. She showed up and immediately I began to dread the next few hours. She wasn’t a 6 foot 5 man with a cut-off, harry arms, mullet and pushing three hundo. No, that was last time. This time - next to me - was a gaunt little lady pushing fifty and showing signs of a tired life. And she smelled terirbly of smoke. Terribly. I scooted over while making casual conversation, I turned on my air nozzle thingy, and I hoped for the best. I fell asleep.
I woke up to my stomach growling and the lady next to me making sounds reminiscent of flu induced dry heaving. As I quickly regained consciousness I realized she wasn’t throwing up, just trying to breathe. Why me? As her unique odor permeated my personal space, I cringed. Her knees entered my space and her elbows hit my ribs. Are you kidding me? Yeah, I wanted to ask her how long she’d been a smoker, what breathing like that was like, and a whole host of offensive and demeaning questions. But I just kept my mouth shut, let her breathe, and I hugged my window.
Why do people do that to themselves? Is it really that good? [Edit] And then fifteen minutes later I read this on Yahoo News. If you start and quit, you’re gonna die in pain anyway. Bottom line, don’t start.
On another note, Portland Airport has free wi-fi, and I know you can dig that.
Filed by ryanroth at November 28th, 2006 under Mowntins