An M-80.
Yep, that's what it was, an M-80.
Again.
When you fly United, you normally get an Airbus, but we got a reasonable price from American Airlines, which seems to be mostly, ahem, Macdonnel-Douglas-80 planes, or, M-80's
And they are smaller.
Did I mention that I dont like to fly?
The one good thing about the M-80 is that one side seats only 2 across, while the right hand side seats 3.
The airbus seats 3 on both sides.
When you fly as a couple, as they say, "two's company, three's a crowd." Especially when she want the ailse seat, and I want the "drunken, passed out on dope, wake me when we get there" seat.
I mean the window seat.
I want to be able to make sure the pilot isn't drunk himself and weaving all over the sky.
I am, however, please to say we did arrive in Florida safe and sound.
But not entirely without incident.
I believe the taxi arrived right on time at 4:30.
We had the two big suitccases, two carrions and the "personal bag" just outside the door for the cabbie to load into the trunk.
First mistake.
The cabbie turned out to be a rather large black woman ,
who rolled down her windo when Diane went out to the car to meet her.
"Do you need help with the bags?" she asked my wife.
"That would be nice, " she replied.
And that's as far as it went.
I was still in the house, making last second double checks, and Smidgy was still trying to get the driver to pop the trunk. I almost fell over the bags in the very dark night, since I didn't want to leave a light on the whole time.
We brought the bags down ourselves, but they wouldn't fit in the trunk.
Reason?
The cabbie was doing her laundry at an "Open all night" laundromat, and the trunk was already filled with bags of her laundry!
Not kidding. So.,...
One of our suitcases got to ride shotgun in the front seat next to the cabbie.
SHe then proceeded to get on the mostly deserted highway, and get all the way over into the left lane.
Doing 50 miles per hour.
Speed limit is 55 here, so everybody does 65.
70 in the "far left lane."
But that wasn't the worst part;
At first I thought it was the driver, I thought she was just terrible at steering.
The car would seemt o suddenly swerve left or right, enough to where your head would actually move in delayed reaction, so I started to watch her.
But she wasn't the one doing it, the car was doing it on it's own!
I glanced at Diane to see if she was noticing it too.
Oh yeah she was, she was staring at me in fear and a look of "What the hell's wrong with driver?"
It was so quiet though in the car that there was no way I could tell her it wasn't the driver but the car itself, and I have a feeling that if I had, that wouldn't have helped her fear issues in the slightest bit.
I once had an axle fall off my Mazda, and of course, once again I was on the highway doing about 70 when it happened, but it happened with no warning that time.
This time it looks like we are getting more than a "heads up", more like a "Run for your lives, the dam has broke" warning.
I'm now, purposely avoiding making eye contact with Smidgy, I figured that indifference would ease her tension so I sat there with my face pressed to the side window, watching the passing dark go by, trying to monitor our progress to the damn airport. We live about 28 miles away.
My face pulled away from the window, then clunked it again with my nose as the car did it's little jitterbug move again. I finally made out Arlington Heights Road.
About 5 more miles.
We made it without incident, but not without a pair of huge sighs of relief in two part harmony as we pulled up to the "Terminal", I still love that they gave that name for peple to use when taking the Aluminum Tube of Death as their mode of transportation.
I started to work on paying the driver, Smidgy was hugging some wino outside the taxi stand.
After paying her in cash, this company didn 't take credit cards, I had already had the money set aside including tip in my pocket so I wouldnt have to fumble in the dark, and I just handed it to her. Smidgy couldn't believe I gave her a 12 dollar tip, I told her it was because we were still alive, that made it worth it.
I think you'd agree with me.
Next obstacle:
Baggage check.
When we were still at home the day before, and Smdgy had finished packing her checked bag, she asked me to feel it, worrying that it might be over 50 pounds, resulting in an extra fee.
I picked it up, and damn, it DID feel heavy to me.
So I got on the bathroom scale to verify things, yes, the scale did say I weigh 200 pounds on the nose, like it should.
Then I picked up the bag, Smidgy read it off to me:
232.
Really? WOw, I thought it weighed a lot more than that myself, but the scale can't be wrong.
Now I'm also sad that my body in deteriorating so quickly in my new found days of slothdom, where 32 pounds feels like 50.
I then tried to balance the bag on the scale on it's own, and it looked closer to 30 pounds.
Oh well, not going to worry about it.
I should have, it was close!
Mine went on the scale first; 39 pounds.
I knew hers was heavier.
I had visions of taking the big bottle of vodka out and having to chug half of it down to "lighten the load."
But I would do it;
For her;
For America and capitalism;
and for saving the extra weight fee!
Hers went on.
46 pounds!
Whew.
Once more we crank up that sigh of "Sweet Adeline" in two part harmony.
It's now security time, which is also called, "give Nebo a heart attack" time. (sorry, in this instance, 3rd person works better than first person)
(by the way, what is Second person?)
And wunce more I got yelled at.
This is getting to be a regular thing with me and the TSA.
Hold it.
Wunce?
Oh great, I'm slipping, the enhanced brain drug I've been taking is no loonger working, I'm reverting back to my former state ov I,Q, 83.
I took my shoes off.
I took my jacket off.
i took my hat off.
Put them all in the basket, and slid the basket down to the Neuralizer.
Then, following orders, I tried to step into the Orgasmatron, but was stopped.
"Sir, are your pockets empty? If not, grab a little white dish and place the items in it and send it through."
So I pulled out my keychain and 60 cents in change and through them in a dish, then placed it on the conveyor.
I looked back at Sargeant Hulka, "now can I go through?"
He nodded
In there, I had to hold my arms up over my head, but I guess it wasn't working, I got no orgasm at all.
On the other side, Diane's allready got her shoes back on, but Sargeant Hulka isn't done with me yet.
"Sir, is that a wallet in your back pocket?"
"yes it is, but it's not metal, as far as I know."
"May I see it?"
(No I said, go take a flying jump and put that nightstick where the sun does,,,,,,)
"Of course." And I handed it to him. He thumbed through it, but if he would have even TOUCHED my Annual pass,,,,,,,,,,,,
He gave it back to me.
I turned to go.
"One more thing,,,, SIR."
I so wanted to say, "You" Sir" me one more time I'm going to prescibe a 24 hour enema," until I realized I'm not on MASH, and Sargeant Hulka probably wouldn't get it.
I turned back, now with an exasperated look on my face.
"Do you have anything in your fron left pocket? It looks like you do."
He was damn right on that account,
Two Ibuprofen, one Ativan, and 3 painkillers, the real ones. I know they have to be transported int eh original containers,,, but I wanted them handy, andy.
If necessary, I was going to be flying Air La La Land if need be, and if I would have had to chug that Wodka bottle,, all the better. Have I mentioned that I hate to fly?
"Yes I do," I told him, "Drugs." And with that I pulled them out of my pocket and showed him the handfull of pretty different colored pills, looking him in the eye the entire time.
For some reason, I was no longer worried about retribution or any of this, I was just kind of, amused is the word that comes to mind.
He glanced down at my handfull of goodness and equality, and nodded "go on."
I "go'ed".
At the gate now with an HOUR AND A HALF TO KILL, I went to work on my fidgetting. Then I worked on my fussing.
After that I practiced my squirming and finally, my paciing.
Finally, the airplane taxi driver showed up.
He was dragging a small suitcase behind him, but I
don't think it was his laundry.
This time, he wasn't Pontius the Pilot, or even Clutch Cargo, But why is it that every, single, flight I get on, the Captain is about 80 years old? His hair was as white as snow. His belly shook like a bowl full of jell,,,,hold it, wrong prose.
But his hair was white, which means he WAS OLD!
So now, I'm doing the Ol "look around" for somebody to play the Leslie Neilson role of the clever doctor. You know,
just in case something should happen to the pilot.
Apparently, Leslie isn't flying with us today, I couldn't find anybody even worthy of playing the blow up autopilot!
Finally, we boarded, we are on the side where there is only two seats across, no "infiltrator" between us, and it's just starting to get light out.
Two and a half hours later, yes, I took the pills, every last one of them right before i boarded, we landed at MCO, yes, Peter Graves did a great job of driving the bus, and I always forget about the Monorail ride you need to get to the main airport part.
Then, for the fist time in our entire lives, we had to go and fetch our own baggage, since we are NOT using Magical Express, can't, right now, we need to get to Doubletree Resort, across from Universal.
I've always hated when somebody said to me when I was single, "yeah, but I have baggage issues."
That morning at MCO, we had baggage issues.
night all, neb, and I do love you all, no matter what Ponzi says. I even like him, too.
Remember last night? I said, So, do I post this?
Here I am again, same place, same question. The answer?
YEAH! You Betchum!
But you did forget to mention WDW. 
I never in a million years would have thsought somebody would break down that chapter, that's why I love you. 
I modified my comment in case it was inappropriate. I loved that line though 
Way to go! Are the purple (they look purple to me on my puter anyway) tassles indicative of the Master, the Science or the Nursing? Or something else?
congrats have a great time at wdw youve earned it
great chapter honey!
at the vfw in a snow storm.
