The terminal in LaGuardia resembles the hallways of Charlton Heston's apartment building in 'Soylent Green.'
The same man who checked my bag is now taking my ticket. At least I didn't have to pay to check my bag.
Inside the plane is surprisingly neutral. I was expecting something more rustic or faux 'Western' after seeing the wings and tail of the plane covered in a glamour shot of a galloping steed.
Much to my chagrin I am sitting in B, therefore, the middle, and therefore, nowhere to sleep.
A young IPhone wielding technocrat, covered from head to toe in Obama gear, takes the window.
Not a minute later a slightly older woman wearing a homemade 'Hillary was robbed' tee takes the aisle.
About thirty seconds after they notice each other, they're at it. Taunts of racism and sexism, platitudes about experience versus change, personal barbs and insecurities being masked by political baiting. I'd record the specifics, but, trust me, you've heard them all already.
Meanwhile, across the aisle, there's some guy a suit smirking. He's in a row with two seats and one of them is empty.
But, that's not why he's smirking. He's not wearing any buttons or tee-shirts proclaiming his support for anyone, but it's as obvious as the material of his suit who he's voting for. He's a McCain guy reveling in the Democrats still playing the you upended my personal Christ game. Meanwhile, the McCain campaign has started conforming to traditional Republican campaigning strategies and has managed to pull almost even in the polls.
This is why I stopped writing about politics for two and a half months. It was doing just fine without me. The color of one guy was a little different, that's all. Republicans play to win, Democrats play to feel superior. The rest is noise.
I order a bloody mary and a vodka tonic and down both in less than a minute, pausing only to knock back four Ambien in between gulps. I'll have two weeks to listen to this prattle day in and day out.
Sleep warms over me.
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