Sunday, February 23, 2003
Molly just called from DFW (Dallas-Fort Worth airport)... her flight to NYC is delayed almost 2 hours!! I hate waiting in airports. I always find myself drifting towards the infamous airport bar, where I sit and wait for my chance to get out of some place I normally have no business being. And after a few, over-priced, watered down drinks and a meaningless conversation on the local sports team (pick a sport and team) I always end up getting handed a business card from a heavyset, scotch drinking, traveling salesman named Wally, hailing from somehwere in the Mid-West, where his second wife, two and a half kids, and a dog named Skippy reside.
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