Mama told me not to talk to strangers

Midnight CST, Wednesday September 19th: As I begin typing, I'm so tired my eyes are shutting of their own accord. But I'm also ravenous, so I'll type long enough to finish my room-service salad.

A little voice in the back of my head suggests that maybe typing will keep me awake so I don't faceplant into my sesame-dressed mixed greens and grilled chicken...

Awake at 6am Central Time, I managed to jam office hours, teaching, half a day at the day-job, last-minute packing, and a cross-country flight into my day. I checked into my hotel at 10 local time (midnight CST).

Source: reddit.com via Beth on Pinterest

On the move for more than 16 hours, I'm too tired to form truly coherent sentences... but if Hemingway is right about "write drunk. edit sober." then maybe "write delirious. edit well-rested." also applies? (If so, this post is going to be effing brilliant when I get through editing in the morning!)

Anyway... I'm writing in this delirious state because my flights were actually... FUN. And I don't want to forget any important details. Ok... ok... The flights themselves were cramped and mildly uncomfortable, but I met some characters during my travels today.

I know mama told me not to talk to strangers, but chit-chatting with fellow travelers was the highlight my day yesterday.

There was the older man, returning from a trip to Vegas, who pulled up a chair next to me at an airport bar in DFW.

In the (very brief) time it took him to finish his pint, he told me all about his preference for aisle seats so he doesn't have to worry about climbing over sleeping passengers when he needs to hit the head.

He also informed me that he's a huge New York Giants fan and was worried that he would "turn into a pumpkin" if he got too close to any of the Cowboys fan gear stores in the airport. (For the record, I'm not entirely sure what he meant by the pumpkin comment, but it didn't sound good. Clearly he's not a Dallas fan.)

Mr. Giants Fan was amiable and entertaining, and I sincerely hope he got home safely and that his puppy didn't tear the house up too much in his absence.

Then there was the gent from Boston who sat next to me on the airplane and with whom I share a geographic history: Born in New England, Moved to southern California a little over a decade ago, On a plane on a regular basis for work (though his 10,000 miles per month far exceeds my measly few-thousand).

In typical New Englander shooting-the-breeze fashion, his tales all seemed a little too tall to be completely true, a little embellished for effect. Did he really go swimming in the Bellagio fountain? Is he really on a first-name basis with the best chefs in San Diego? Maybe he is, but even if he isn't, the conversation was delightful.

Salty old New Englanders can spin a good yarn, even if we haven't lived there in years.

It was nice to spend a day with almost no news headlines and lots and lots of plain 'ol chitchat.


Do you talk to strangers?
When you travel, are you a chit-chatter or do you prefer peace and quiet?

Morning editor's note: the number of typos I found in the morning was breathtaking. On the level of confusing "to" with "too." But... edited... I'm glad I sat down to type.