They should just require people to fly naked these days

I get to go to the airport today.

I've spent a lot of time in airports--totally unnecessary time. Usually, I had no control over the situation, like in 1980 when my entire family had to spend 12 hours in the Fargo, North Dakota airport when my grandma went missing during a flight delay in Great Falls, Montana. Or was it Billings? Oh, who gives a fuck. Anyway, that was my grandma's fault and I was only 12 so it's not like I could either A) Get in a car and just go home, or at least to the mall or something, or B) Sit in the airport bar and wait it out.

So now with the advent of cell phones and high security at airports, the above incident would never have happened today.

Here's an old airport story that I put up on NRWP in August, 2004:

Saxygal gave me a ride to the airport. My flight was at 6AM so we both had to get up at 0-dark:30. I changed planes in Chicago. I had to book it from one extreme end of one terminal to another terminal. Times like that, I'm really glad I used to hike and bike a lot; strap a backpack on me and it sends a signal to my feet to move fast and ignore hills.

Not that there are any hills in O'Hare, but still.

I only rushed because I thought my next flight would be boarding by the time I got there. Since I rushed, of course, it didn't board for a good 20 minutes.

So I sat down, only slightly out of breath, between two ladies who were chatting with each other: one, a total grandmotherly type, complete with ass spread, over-curled perm and orthopedic shoes. The other was probably of a similar age, but she was a really classy looking black lady.

I started chatting with them. They wondered if my backpack was heavy, and I diplomatically told them that some would think so, but I was used to hefting toddlers so it didn't bother me.

We chatted about children in baby seats on planes. We chatted about the Concorde. We chatted about all manner of innocuous things, they way you do when you don't have a good book while waiting for a flight.

When I got off the plane, they were cleaning the women's bathroom. No pee break for me! My ride Skydog was about to walk in to the airport as I was coming out. He commented that Koko Taylor's limo was out front and I might have ridden the plane with her.

I said, "Yeah, I did. In fact, I talked to her."

"What about?"

"Baby seats."

The BeerHound and her friend Paddy-Cakes were still an hour away due to unforseen drunkenness, so SkyDog and I went to his house for a kick-ass cup of coffee.

It felt good to breathe fresh air.