December 9, 2011
Singing carols at the Asheville Country Club, with a view of mared Paradise in all directions.
Asheville Regional Airport, sucking down soda water and lime at the bar where Kim the waitress tells me the history of the big bow she wears in her hair. The TV monitors indicate a good day on Wall Street, which dissolves my last hint of travel anxiety (ie, how am I going to pay for this?), and allows me to face this day with unusual alacrity. I feel ready for it, eager for it. Even the diarrhea that carries with me from last night seems more a recollection than an immediate threat. Everything in the airport is Christmas-y and expectant. The TSAs were jokey and confiding, explaining to me the variety of things which could cause a false positive from the metal detectors. Swinging the arms is one, which I was doing.
No comments:
Post a Comment