
Years ago, when I first started going out into the
big bad old world, she used to do my makeup for me, so it’s not like she has
never seen me, but that was a long
time ago, and to the best of my memory she hasn’t seen “Kim” in several years.
The first thing she does when she hits the ground floor is to wave her hand in
front of her nose.
“Too much perfume!” she said with a look of distaste on her
face.
“Hey now! I used two spritz up into the air just like you taught me!” I laughed.
“Well maybe next time you should stick to one.” She said as
she walked past me on the way to the coffee pot. That little interchange pretty
much set the tone for the rest of my trip. . . .
So at 530AM, I am ready to head out, but since I know that
my neighbor always goes to work at that time, I stood at the window waiting and
watching his driveway.
“What are you waiting for?” my wife asked me.
“This is when Lee goes to work, so I’m waiting for him
to leave.” I replied. She just kind of snickered her amusement at the
situation. Ten minutes later I was still waiting though, and she spoke up
again.
“You know, maybe he isn’t going to work today? If you are
going to make your flight, you better just get on with it.”
“I guess you're right!” I told her, then gave her a hug and
headed out to the truck with my bags. Of course the very second I got in my
truck, my neighbor came out to leave, so I sat in the truck with the engine off
and just waited until he headed out. I gave him a minute or two, then started
my truck and headed off for the airport. That was when I realized that I had made another mistake – my route to the toll
road is the same as his route to work, and I hadn’t thought about this until my truck was passing his truck. I drive an F150 – literally the
most common vehicle on the road in Texas, so I doubt he would have realized
that the “woman” driving by him was actually his neighbor, but I guess we’ll
see when I get home!
As we were getting off of the plane in San Jose, I couldn’t
help but notice that a guy sitting several seats ahead of me had a classic Mohawk,
and the bare sides of his head was covered in blue/green tattoos shaped like
scales. I tried to sneak a photo of him, but it just wasn’t feasible.

Sometimes I sure wish that I was “normal” . . .