Beloved has been in Indiana doing a few concerts. I flew out to join her on Thursday and learned some things along the way:
- The x-ray machines that you pass your carry-on stuph through in order to be given the privilege of nestling in the armpit of an imperfect stranger have a Selective Transport feature. (As in "Mr. Spock, meet me in the transporter room," and "Ready to beam to the surface.") My stuph entered one end of the machine with a ziplock bag of anti-perspirant gel and aftershave and exited the other end without said ziplock bag. [Please note: the anti-perspirant gel and aftershave were two separate items, though there might be a market for such a multitasking substance. Just in case, I have already copyrighted the term Dry-N-Smelly for Face-N-Pits.]
- Young men who live in Chicago but work in Minneapolis get very talkative and jittery when the flight is a half-hour late and they've got a date with a potential mate who looks great but probably won't wait to eat the food on her plate.
- According to the chili's too establishment in the O'Hare airport, chipotle -- in the context of Chipotle Bleau Cheese Bacon Burger -- is a Spanish word that means "will cauterize your soft palate and leave your lips tender and puffy." (Who needs collagen?)
- No matter how slick you feel calling on your cell phone from Chicago to renew your library book in Minnesota, the feeling drains away when the robo-voice tells you it can't renew your book because someone else wants it.
- Being five minutes late for a flight is the same as being five hours late for a flight, except when you're five hours late, you don't have to wait as long for the next availability.
- Taking off from Chicago at night can be visually impressive, but landing in Fort Wayne is more emotionally satisfying.