Sitting in the airport lounge way too early for a solo vacation trip but I am off to see my people so I am kid-on-Christmas excited. I was making friends at the bar as they are headed to Hawaii and one of them is afraid to fly. He is attempting to find the alcohol sweet spot but I think his gauge might be broken. I was already drinking myself because, vacation and other reasons, so the early day drinkers have to group up to survive as this place fills with families. My new friends came out of the gate hot and have lapped me twice in a short time so I don’t think drunk will be a problem. Successful boarding might become the issue.
I was having my drink due to a morbid tradition that I started once my divorce was final of “celebrating” my wedding anniversary. I start the day with a drink in an attempt to exercise the demons that will try to control my thoughts. This would have marked my 34th year of marriage and I won’t lie taking that L still stings. But I do this every year, no one asks me why I’m drinking this early, I think of my life as it stands, and everything calms back down. The internal asshole that lives in my head has been beaten into submission but when he gets out, it’s on and shit gets bumpy. This helps keep that thing at bay.
As I thumb type this my new friends are on round four in under 15 minutes and the bartender has cut them off. Their plan is to head to another Delta lounge and shoot their limit there as well. Their flight boards after mine but if it didn’t I would happily follow them to their gate to watch the show. It seems like they’ve done this before but the scared guy is already talking with a fat tongue. Maybe his buddy just Weekend At Bernie’s-s him through the process. He has dark sunglasses tucked into his shirt…
Time to go. Happy universarry to me.