make sure my beer’s not empty

How do you say en Francais?
No internet at my brother’s place means no entry for Friday. Now worries though, as I’m trying to get “back at it” and keep the juice flowin’. The weekend was really fun, getting to hang out with my brother and his wife (still sounds funny to me) was cool. On Friday night we stayed up late talking, kinda letting each other in on those “missing years” when I was away at school and he was a working-man back home. For more than two years there, I had no idea what he was up to – and him the same for me. I thought I got into a lot of trouble when I was a kid… but damn. Anyway, it was great. Even though Frank and I are about as different as two brothers can be – we still have a lot in common that we can talk about and agree on. I’m glad I got to spend some time with him, and he and Angela seem genuinely happy. I got a mini-tour of where he works on Ft. Hood, and a glimpse into what he does every day – it was great. My little brother ain’t so little anymore, all grow’d up with a wife and a job and everything. That shit still trips me out.

So now I’m sitting here in the Continental terminal at George Bush Airport in Houston, drinking a tall Shiner Bock in some airport seafood joint. It was the only non-food-court place where I could sit down and have my food brought to me, which is much more conducive to sitting here typing away on the laptop. Someone to come check and make sure my beer’s not empty, and no one to bother me while I wait for my flight (about three hours and counting, if you’re curious). Nevermind that I look like some nerd, typing on his laptop in a restaurant, while watching America’s Funniest Home Videos on the TV, nothing but a big ol’ beer in terms of sustenance in front of me. See? I certainly haven’t analyzed the situation.

I think I could get used to this solo traveling gig. I mean if I were unattached, of course. I kind of like the anonymity of sitting alone in a booth and just “observing” stuff. Not Sherlock Holmes type observing, just, y’know, checkin’ junk out. It’s kind of a good feeling to be wholly responsible for yourself, making sure you budget enough time to make your flight, return your rental car, eat some food, etc. Guys, I’m kinda buzzed right now? this Shiner was biiig, and I haven’t ordered yet because I still have like two whole hours before I can board the flight. When I do order, here at “Bubba’s Seafood Grill,” I think I’m gonna get one of “Bubba’s Favorites,” namely – the “Buffalo Popcorn Shrimp Platter.” I mean, I’ve been mulling this decision for a good twenty minutes now as I downed this beer, so I think I’m prepared to take the plunge and go with it.

Hey original Cyn… I heard you talking to your sister and your roommate at the pool party, I have super-hearing y’know. So for you, I finally cleaned it up and uploaded it – now I think you owe me sex (or at least something sexual in nature). (I know, the picture is broken). And thanks Benz for the praise on my last entry, I too fancied that paragraph as one of my finest… in a league with the desert island paragraph I’m so proud of.

Time to eat my scrimps, Dave out.

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