Calistri's Corner

I normally take the Southwest Airlines non-stop from Austin to Vegas, which means my normal traveling companions are cowboys and gamblers.  Flights on Southwest were booked this week, resulting in my America Airlines one hopper through Dallas.  I didn’t expect much of a difference; Vegas bound travelers are probably all the same….not.

The first leg of my journey (Austin to Dallas) was what I’ll term a “freaks and geeks” flight; comprised of oddly colored haired college girls and boomer aging techno sales guys.  While waiting at the gate, I had a college gal on my right.  She had jet black hair, with the top layer frosted in a stark ghostly white.  She was reading “How Proust Can Change Your Life.” On my left I had a guy who wore a pair of khakis that probably fit his waistline a few years ago.  He was alternating calls on his Blue Tooth between a cranky tech customer and the home office.  I was about to recommend substance abuse to him right before we boarded.  Granted this wasn’t a Vegas bound crowd - so I figured I’d meet up with my peeps in Dallas.

If you still harbor some “JR” inspired vision of Dallas, the Vegas-bound gate at the Dallas airport will make it dissipate faster than a glass of cheap wine in my care.  The setting and those in attendance had all the glitz and unrealistic optimism of an inner city bus terminal.  I’m pretty sure it was being used by local hospitals as a dumping ground for uninsured patients.  People weren’t waiting in anticipation.  In fact they had to be coaxed onto the plane when boarding began.  Most of the passengers looked like the only other flight they had ever made was the last flight out of some war-torn third world country.  These people weren’t gamblers.  They weren’t pretty enough to be mail order brides.  And they lacked any semblance of ambition - not even enough to be drug mules.  Who were these people?

I saw that AA changed my seat assignment, putting me in the last un-reclinable row.  The stocky Eastern European woman next to me was already gently snoring even before we taxi’d from the gate.  As her lightly mustached lip began to quiver, I yelled “cocktails.”  Eventually the steward met all my needs.  I awoke in Vegas two hours later, anxious to be reunited, at last, with people that understood Vegas.     

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 15th, 2007 at 12:01 pm and is filed under Uncategorized.