Six hours in an airport looking at the same pictures over and over, seeing dozens of unknown players in the game that is keeping you here A man's threshold of tolerance can be tested, not by crying children, but by this. Here's that guy in the bright yellow shirt and black pants again. Bumblebee. Bumblebee's only been flying around for two hours with a big smile like he owns the place. Play a little pinball or do some reading. It won't matter. Cognitive abilities numbed as you try to see that damn airplane in the stereogram that everyone else keeps seeing. Toying with the notion of walking into the tavern knowing full well you're underage. At this point it doesn't matter if the local rental cop discovers your little rouse. Gift shop's closed now. No matter, it was all overpriced junk anyway, all but that cute pea soup coloured soapstone figure, the one like a bear. That's just overpriced. Feeling hungry? Then go to the airport restaurant. After all this time you won't mind paying seven dollars for a small fries and a nice glass of black carbonated water Talking to the attractive women behind the counter helps for a while. Connie and Kiersten. Nice girls Finally an announcement and yes, the flight is further delayed for another four hours. Behind all my disdain for the world there is a grin, Bumblebee will get to see what it's like, six hours in an airport.
Reason for writing:
One of the few non-love pieces I've done. A very frustrating
day indeed
Birth sign: Virgo
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