My definition of “eternity” is 13 hours in an aluminum tube. That is what I am facing in 28 days, when I get on the 777 in TLV and head to ATL.
I will be in Biz Elite, which does nothing to shorten the flight but at least makes it somewhat more bearable. I have asked Myself why I am willing to go through this torture and received this reply:
“Because, dummy, you want to go to the Delta Do and learn how to be a gate agent, practice getting out of crashed planes, and have fun in the simulator,” Myself replied.
Of course, that was a pack of lies. Myself has never been one to tell me the truth.
In reality, I am going because I am a Dirty Old Man and there will be a number of beautiful women there. Hopefully, these will include several who are either extremely near-sighted or have very bad taste in men.
Then I remembered that I have a UIG (Used Italian Girlfriend) to whom I am always faithful — except, of course, when I am with the Beautiful Brunette who will be waiting for me in Las Vegas after the Do.
I made a solemn oath to Myself that I would not cheat on these two lovely ladies. Fortunately, what I tell Myself is no more reliable than what Myself tells me.
Of course, none of my fondest wishes will come true. There is not even a hint that Exit Aisle Seat Girl will be at the Do, much less Michelle Pfeiffer, Sarah Palin, Sister Mary Bambi Takamoto, scoow’s Sexy Sister-in-Law, or Traveller’s Incredibly Gorgeous Blonde Sister.
Still, hope does not beat eternal only in the human breast but in mine as well, so I will show up at TLV three hours before my flight (as is requested in Israel), go to the Duty Free to look at all the low-cost booze which I am not allowed to take on a flight to the US, spend some time in the Dan Lounge enjoying the free Diet Coke and non-diet chocolate cake, and then board the never-ending flight.
That, of course, assumes that I can afford the train fare to TLV. My daughter is paying me a visit on Wednesday and she mentioned something about a shopping mall and my Amex…