Airplane Cheerleaders
Thankfully, the stewardess had great intuition; something I’ve noticed about Southwest Airlines. “Can I get you another,” she asked, although I was only halfway through my first drink. “Please,” I implored.
Just as the second drink kicked in, the seven year old sitting behind me started kicking the back of my seat. In an alcohol fueled haze, I was able to imagine myself sitting in a robotic massage chair at The Sharper Image. I had taken the correct precautions, and they were working like a charm.
I usually don’t drink on the plane; chalk it up to general cheapness. But as I entered the gate area in Austin, I knew alcohol was my only salvation. The gate area looked like Big Bird’s red headed step child had been murdered and plucked. The real crime, it turned out, wasn’t murder - but no less disturbing. The red moltwas eminating from a dozen seven year olds; dressed in sparkling cowboy hats and red feather boas. They were apparently on their way to a cheerleading competition in Vegas.
I realize that cheerleading at this age might be a constructive athletic pursuit, but because of their dress, it was very hard not tothink of each of them asJonBonet Ramsey witha backflip. I looked around the waitingroom. Their mothers were all carrying an extra 20-60 pounds. A few mothers confessed to having never flown before. I figure betweengenetics and environment, at least half of these girls were going to continue the cycle; packing on the pounds and spawning anothergeneration of little cheergirls. And my guess is that a fair percentage of the rest woulddiscover bulimia and implants before their twenty first birthday.
I see that Pauly had a different, but more typically Vegas,demographicon his flight out.Somehow, I think I’dopt for the aging strippers. At least they don’t kick the back of your chair.
I completed my biz part of the trip yesterday.Today I’ll probably catch the 2:00pm down at Binions. But I’m hoping to hook up with Change, Pauly, Derek at Red Rock on Saturday - in the throes of their March Madness.





















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March 24th, 2007 at 6:29 pm
I have had bad flights before, but I can’t compete with a dozen 7 year-old cheerleaders and their chubby moms.