On the plane on the way back from Sundance maybe a week ago, the one going from Houston to Newark, I was sitting next to a strange foriegn couple. I had somewhat high hopes for them for some reason, but for lunch we were served a pizza bagel, ranch dressing, soggy carrots and a kit kat bar.
At this point I was thinking that the couple was Polish, and they both ate the ranch dressing, which was a huge dissapointment.
That's America's great shame, ranch dressing is. I fell into a funk. But then the guy saved it by ordering two cans of Mott's tomato juice and drinking them in sucession before holding his wife's creepy hand for the rest of the flight (two or more hours!). "The Jane Austen Book Club" was the in flight movie fyi tmi google.
And oh boy, I got the feeling that they noticed me watching them and thought I was the strange one. The shoe's really on the other foot now, huh? Whatever, I'm a big shot who went to Sundance Film Festival and they're just a bunch of foriengers who maybe went to or through Houston (International?) Airport. I really should track them down and see if they want to share my Picassa photo album from the flight though. I at least owe them that much.
Cheerio Matiees, down let the beestards bf your a's 2 hard this time around,
EB
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