Fred Agnir
01-13-2005, 06:13 PM
So, I'm sitting at the Philadelphia waiting for a crew to show up to get me to Louisville. I and a few other people sit and wait for 5 hours. "Stay in the gate area," they kept saying. There were 5 kids, all unrelated, all waiting, all getting quite annoying. After a while, it got way past irritating.
I consoled myself with some fine reading: the latest John Grisham offering. I checked some of the other passengers to see how they were passing the time. Most were reading some kind of airport tome. A lady next to me was going over a business report. An older gentleman across was reading a book with a Spanish title. Funny, he didn't look Spanish.
Finally a crew came, and the gate erupted in applause. We boarded and two hours later we were touching down in Louisville, this week's venue for the gambling frenzy to come. I was of course quite concerned with my cue as it had been out of my hands in and in USAir's questionable ones for so long. But, thankfully as I walked towards the luggage carousel, there was my maroon Porper Travel Bag.
Now here's where the story gets silly. I noticed there was another cue case on the carousel. And it wasn't covered or anything. The case with cues, an older 3/7 Instroke was just carouseling away. One of the pockets was open. I thought to myself, "self, there's something only an idiot would do."
I paid little mind and went to get my rental car. Then I saw him. The fool who checked his case without any concealment. When he grabbed the case he looked up and saw me looking at him. I recognized him as the older man at the Philly airport reading a book with the Spanish Title. Funny, he still didn't look Spanish. He was Puerto Rican. His graying hair and baseball cap had me fooled. "Spanish" Mike Lebron!
He asked me if I was heading to the Executive, so I offered him a ride. Talking with him, he could have been my father. Just a regular guy. Oh wait, my father isn't just a regular guy. But if he was, Mike Lebron would have been just like him.
And that's only the first few hours of Day 1.
Fred <~~~ funny, he didn't look Spanish
I consoled myself with some fine reading: the latest John Grisham offering. I checked some of the other passengers to see how they were passing the time. Most were reading some kind of airport tome. A lady next to me was going over a business report. An older gentleman across was reading a book with a Spanish title. Funny, he didn't look Spanish.
Finally a crew came, and the gate erupted in applause. We boarded and two hours later we were touching down in Louisville, this week's venue for the gambling frenzy to come. I was of course quite concerned with my cue as it had been out of my hands in and in USAir's questionable ones for so long. But, thankfully as I walked towards the luggage carousel, there was my maroon Porper Travel Bag.
Now here's where the story gets silly. I noticed there was another cue case on the carousel. And it wasn't covered or anything. The case with cues, an older 3/7 Instroke was just carouseling away. One of the pockets was open. I thought to myself, "self, there's something only an idiot would do."
I paid little mind and went to get my rental car. Then I saw him. The fool who checked his case without any concealment. When he grabbed the case he looked up and saw me looking at him. I recognized him as the older man at the Philly airport reading a book with the Spanish Title. Funny, he still didn't look Spanish. He was Puerto Rican. His graying hair and baseball cap had me fooled. "Spanish" Mike Lebron!
He asked me if I was heading to the Executive, so I offered him a ride. Talking with him, he could have been my father. Just a regular guy. Oh wait, my father isn't just a regular guy. But if he was, Mike Lebron would have been just like him.
And that's only the first few hours of Day 1.
Fred <~~~ funny, he didn't look Spanish