Moe might have a job.
Said job might cause her to stop referring to herself in the third person.
I'd like to venture back in time to a few topics I had wanted to bring up in the past, a few stories if you will (and I will) but had mistakenly forgotten.
Bear with me for I am in mildly pleasant spirits, having painted most of the evening, I've been sucking up quite my fair share of fumes and now I find myself sitting here, sipping wine, eating risotto, my internet connection finally back up and running... I could make a few complaints for my current disposition, but overall I'm feeling quite gay.
I went to Denver earlier this summer. I had a glorious time.
Gregory and I flew out from Washington, DC. The fare was far more fair than anywhere else around and I figured we could stop in and check on the CRiNC and Alejandra.
She let us stay at her apartment and even cooked us quite a fantastic meal.
Our flight was to depart at 6:30AM from Reagan National Airport.
Naturally, we arrived an hour early for the flight, bleary eyed and slightly shaken by the cab fare that I had forgotten was so damn expensive. Both of us have been relying rather heavily on unemployment and had not quite budgeted exorbitant cab fees into our spending. Well, let's be honest, we don't budget at all. For the girl who used to budget her Trident chewing gum, just let me say: You've come a long way, baby.
We were standing on the down escalator. Greg saw him first.
"Hey! Look who it is!"
I had to turn to see who he was talking about for they had already passed us, going up. I saw the back of his head.
"Hmmm... well, it sort of looks like him. I mean, I've only to seen the back of his head, but it certainly appeared to be him.It could be..."
We dismounted the escalator and walked passed the first security gate - our security gate was another 50 yards ahead.
Stepping into line, we both giggled and pointed at the ridiculous illustrations surounding the entire area, and for good measure, giggled and pointed at some of the TSA staff as well.
We knew the routine: shoes, jackets, belts, bags... all haphazardly tucked into one of those rectangular grey bins and rolled onto the conveyor belt, through the x-ray machine.
We were just about to complete this routine when I turned and saw him, in the line next to me.
I nudged Greg.
"He's right behind us! Look! In the line over there!"
Like two nerds, we turned our heads to gape and gawk. We were in awe, and amazed as this man stood there, dark blue business suit that screamed expensive, ear piece in place, shiney leather shoes in his hand, jacket slung over his arm, standing in his stocking feet and waiting for a grey bin.
I walked through the metal detector while the security guard governing his secition hollered at him.
"Sir! Please remain behind the yellow line until you are called forward!! Don no move from behind the yellow line, please!"
I hid my smile and quickly gathered up my items, still watching his every move. I was putting on my shoes as he was being flagged for secondary screening. This was amazing. No one knew who he was. I felt like I was in my own little world with him and Greg as my only accomplices.
He stood patiently with his feet spread and his arms out as the TSA guard moved her wand over his body. He noticed me staring and he smiled.
I was startled, and a little flustered (being the huge geek that I am).
"Good morning Governor!"
He nodded his head and smiled even bigger. I had one moment to speak my mind and so I did.
"I have to say, I'm really really impressed that you are schlepping through this line with the rest of us. Thank you!"
"Of course. That's what it's here for."
Gregory arrived at my side and we began walking to our gate. My cheeks were a little red and both of us were admittedly excited. The irony of it all. I thought it hysterical and actually imagined how I would write it into a blog.
I felt like defending him to those TSA guards and telling them that they have a job because of him.
I mean, really, how often do you get to witness Tom Ridge going through security with you at the airport?!
I've plum run out of energy. My cheeks are a little flushed from the wine I've been drinking. I just ran to the kitchen for a refill and Cecilia caught my ear on the way back down the hallway... admittedly (and shamefully) I don't even really know what she was saying to me. Surely something about the ridiculous shopping spree that she just went on or her new job at EB Games.
I'm feeling more relaxed now.
Tonight is Becky and the Eck's. Tomorros is more painting, and a Schundler reunion picnic, and probably picking up my bridesmaid dress for JC's wedding.
You know... when I choose clarity, it actually comes.
Now isn't that something?
| Currently reading : |
Girl with a Pearl Earring
By Tracy Chevalier
Release date: By 08 January, 2001