John came to pick me up at 5 am on Wednesday to go to the airport, chipper and humming along with the radio. I am profoundly not a morning person, and I grumbled as much from the passenger seat. He ignored me.
Our hotel was nicer than my apartment, and on our second flight, from Memphis to Indiana, Julie and I sat next to a women who regaled us with her whole medical history and tidbits about her recent trip to Alaska. We found both fascinating, like watching the rainbow colors in an oil spill.
On the second night, after some time in the pool, three margaritas, one shot of whiskey, and dinner, we discovered that Dana had never seen fireflies before. In trying to catch one for her, we may have accidentally squished a couple.
I didn't bring a bathing suit with me, which led to three of us at the Walmart next to the hotel in the middle of the night. This involved a lot of me opening the door of the dressing room slightly and hissing, "Dana! My breasts aren't big enough for this one, either! What kind of corn-fed Indiana girls do they have around here?"
I still do not know who sent me the naked plastic parachute man. Anyone? Wanna fess up?
Going through security on the way home, the man looked at me and said, "Samantha? The airline has chosen you for further screening." The girl who was to screen me informed me that she should do a more thorough inspection, but she liked my shoes and didn't think I was up to anything. They were my argyle flats, and I agree with her--anyone with shoes that fabulous would not be looking to muck them up in any way. She ran her wand around me and patted my back like she was burping me.
The two girls sitting next to me on the last flight were twins from Nebraska on their way to visit their father. They had a perfectly timed window rotation so that each got a turn. As we approached Seattle the one next to me pulled out something that was slightly smaller than my laptop. I was anticipating a portable DVD player, so you can imagine my surprise when she opened it to reveal more makeup than I have in my entire house.
By the time we got to the car, we were making up 'happy to be home' songs and dances. And I wasn't kidding about drag shows, dancing, or drinking. Drag shows are Friday and Saturday nights. Drinking and dancing are always. I am practically made of free time for the next couple of weeks. And hey, this is my first Fourth of July in Seattle that I'm not having a party--anyone got any good ideas?
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