I Got up at 6:00 in the am and had a cup. Went to meetings all day with rabid English clients. Had to drink coffee to keep my ears clear. After the meetings ended I drove like a madman to Newark. It took an hour and a half up Route 1, so I had to stop for a cup of coffee. I returned the rental and sprinted for the gate. Something in my bag set off the explosive alarm twice, which is once more than is allowed, so I sat in a chair next to the xray machine. Four Port Authority cops arrived. Three no-neck, para-military dudes with black rifles showed up. One of the cops spit juice from the wad of tobacco in his mouth into the trash can next to my chair. The cops and the soldiers hugged eachother. Nobody looked at me except one of the four Puerto Rican chicks running the scanner. She said, "Don't take it personally."
Pretty soon a big German Shepard dog came up who was a lot better looking than the cop he was walking. The dog came over and sniffed me. I wiped dog spit on my socks. He looked at the girls like he wanted to sniff them. Then he sniffed all the stuff in my bag, my computer, my pens (individually), my papers, my mouse, each buckle and snap. He sat down. Cracker Cop chewing tobacco said, "Have a nice flight." I ran for the gate. But wait. I had just enough time to grab a starbucks. I flew to Chicago. Had to wait in Midway an hour and a half for my flight to Minneapolis. Coffee. I flew to Minneapolis, landed, waited for my bag, drove home. Now I am looking at the glow-the-dark stars on the ceiling of my room. They are sharp and bright. I have had too much coffee.
Copyright ?2003. Chris Dykstra. All Rights Reserved.