So, a new President has been elected. And while it might amuse you all to read what I have to say about the election, whom I voted for, or what I think about the road ahead, having never been a political person before in my life, I am not about to start now. Don't get me wrong; I care. The things I do on a daily basis are affected a great deal by who the President is and what his policies are going to be. I simply prefer not to pontificate about it. There are a lot more fun and ephemeral things to discuss. Let's take this transition season for example. For the past few months (since I started working in the office I work at now), there have been several instances in meetings that I have been in people have put off making a decision about one thing or another because "in a few months, who knows what is going to happen... who knows if this body is even going to exist?" ...amazing the excuses people find to justify their inaction! Rather than have a plan, a body or a policy ready for the new administration to approve, rather than having something ready and in place to brief the transition team on, they would rather throw their proverbial hands up in the air or nestle farther into their cubicles and do nothing. That is funny to me. So, I decided to kick off this transition season with my own brand of diffidence: by returning to the fold of my parent service and giving a little back to my warfare community. My meetings and binders and emails and bureaucracy will be waiting for me when I get back. For such is the speed of government. It's transition season... I've got time.
Within minutes of landing at the Memphis International Airport, I learned two very important facts. First, the airport ladies room also serves as a natural disaster shelter. I assume the same goes for the men's room. I'm not real familiar with the airport's other options as far as safe havens go, but the prospect of huddling in this stankass brick-walled rectangle with potentially hundreds of pannicking women would be a downright natural disaster in and of itself. Shoosh. Anyway, the second thing I learned was a touch less dramatic. Actually, it was veritibly anti-climactic. I mean there I was, having just landed in the city of Elvis and Blues and barbeque ribs, civil rights, and ducks who walk on red carpets, and the banner above my head as I descended the escalator into baggage claim read: "Memphis, The Distribution Center of America." Seriously? Yep. Disappointed, huh? Me too.
Earlier, during my layover in Atlanta, I encountered anything but disappointment. My expectations were a lot lower, though, so there you go. After an hour searching for a store that sold black socks, I settled in to grab a little din din at the illustrious Miller Lite Restaraunt. Here follows my account of my dining experience.
A waitress just stopped by and inquired about the second chair at my table: "Anyone using this?"
What I said was: "uh, no."
What I should have said was, "my imaginary friend."
How much funnier would that have made things? Instead, it was only entertainment in my world (my head). If only I hadn't been so slow on the uptake.
Ah, there goes the last sip of my very tall glass of Miller Lite. Ah, breathe. I do believe my headache's gone. What a rejeuvenating beverage: beer.
"Are you sure you don't want another one?"
Temptress waitress. I wasn't going to.
"Uh, why not?" Carefree in Atlanta. It's the next best thing to footloose and fancy free - or so it seems to me at this moment. The Steelers are ahead of the Colts. Am I allowed to use their names in this forum without the express written consent of the National Football League? If not, strike that. Let us just say that the Pennsylvania Metal Factory workers are up on the Horsies. Shoot, that sounds funnier anyway. So, take that, copywright infringe...
Oooooh, my new extra tall and frosty frothy goodness Miller Light just arrived -- talk about a shiny nickel? So yeah, take that copyright infringement laws!
Hup. The receipt - I mean the check - just arrived. Crappers, time to do math. Um, half of 18 is 9, half of 9 is 4 and a half, so 4 plus 18 is 22, to make the $18.60 even let's go with 23, so in reverse that's a $4.40 cent tip, right? Well, that's what I wrote down. Russ threatened to get me a math drills/exercises book. Screw that. I will just concentrate a little harder. I can do math fine. Sometimes I just get a little distracted or diffident. Math and me is like that time worn quote: "some people say that the two biggest problems today are ignorance and apathy. But I don't know and I don't care." Ha! Cracks me up. Maybe I will eat these potato chips. They are here -- but then I might not be able to finish my beer. Seriously? Yeah, maybe I'll do without the chips after all. I am so fortunate I have a built in alter ego to consult.
Ah, beer is such a transformational beverage. So lovely.
Woahoop. 10 min 'till my flight boards. I had better suck this beer back and hop to it.
-no pun intended -- seriously!
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