I’m sitting at the Nashville airport, waiting for Hillary to pick me up. I suppose I could just grab a shuttle to the hotel, but, well, I’m cheap.
You’ll be happy to know that I got on my flight as planned this morning – as opposed to the flight I missed going to SheSpeaks. Yep, I got to the airport not so bright and early, so I wouldn’t have a replay of that little event.
So early that I had about an hour to kill. Which means, of course, that I’m almost finished with my book.
Oh well. The good news – aside from simply MAKING my crazy early (yes, 8 a.m. is early for a flight when you factor in getting ready, last-minute packing, drive-time and check-in!) flight – is that I just had the best flight EVER.
See, I’m not a good flier. Not at all. But this morning’s trip was great! Of course I knew the flight would be short (just over an hour), but I didn’t know it would be practically empty.
Imagine my pleasant surprise when I got a WHOLE ROW to myself! It took everything I had not to pop up that other armrest and make myself AT HOME.
Instead I read a little more and half-slept, half-eavesdropped on the much-too-chipper guys a few rows back.
Little did I know that I should have been listening in on the folks a few rows UP. Because those guys? Those guys were MUSICIANS.
What clued me in? Well, I suppose it could have been the fact that they were on a flight TO NASHVILLE. But you know, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. (After all, they could be tea partiers, or whatever that OTHER convention going on at my hotel is about.)
Nope, I know they’re musicians, because as I walked ahead of them and then behind them (then ahead again and behind again – their unsteady pace REALLY made it difficult for me to properly eavesdrop), they were singing.
Singing. In the airport. And laughing. And saying, “That’s great! That will be my first single! Hahaha!”
I know. My deductive skills are amazing.
As I was working much harder than I should have to on five hours of sleep to listen in on this fascinating display of, well, SOMETHING, I also tried to get a good look at their faces. After all, until I heard the words “FIRST single,” I thought maybe they’re really famous. This is Music City, right?
Well, I’m pretty sure they’re not famous. Yet. Maybe they will be. I’ll let you know if and when I hear that phrase they repeated all the way from our gate to baggage claim on the radio.
And with that, I believe I’ll log off for a bit. I don’t see an outlet anywhere, so I’m depending on my laptop’s battery. And as said laptop is actually a dinosaur that has never heard the word “netbook,” much less the hideous “iPad,” I’m guessing I’ve just about exhausted its poor little battery.
Oh, one last thing, though: my bag that I painstakingly packed late last night, folding each shirt and pair of pants into tiny squares and placing them JUST SO? Yeah, it got inspected. Thankfully, even MacGyver couldn’t turn way too much plus-sized women’s clothes for a four-day trip, a lint roller and a cheap plastic hairbrush into a bomb.
—————————————-
Can’t get enough of Giving Up on Perfect? Subscribe here, follow me on Twitter and join my Facebook page.
