stranded at the drive-in

I am marooned at the airport, but it has been kind of a surreal day. When you find yourself deep in conversation with a Mormon kid who dropped out of college to have a daughter, you have to think you might be bent. But next best, I talked to a woman who had anger management problems in high school and had to be sent to a separate school as a result. That's when I started to wonder if it's just th way people relate to me. The comfort of invisibility is that people feel bizarrely fine with sharing personal details with you.

SP says I am a fake, because I carry myself like I am a working class stiff, but don't get paid like one. But old habits die hard. And one of the advantages of my childhood in EBF is that I figure out ways to find common ground with unexpected people. Of course, one of the disadvantages is that I don't relate to people who should be considered my peers.

Anyway, I am just babbling because I will probably be at the airport for hours. When I tell you where I was, some people are going to think less of me. I should have attempted to see them, but time won't give me time these days.