Friday, June 24, 2005

Welcome to Armstrong Airport. Home of the New Orleans Saints. What else is there to say after that?

Poker night was a blast. I feel like Fast Eddy after they broke his hand in the Hustler. I know I can beat them, I just let my head get in the way too much. So, needless to say I lost. Did I lose big? Who freaking cares? Losing sucks in general, no sugar coating it. Rhett's new friend, Barry, the magical leprechaun won. Rhett lost out on the last hand, but it was a forced hand.

I had to run out and pick up my nephews at the airport. New Orleans Internation Airport, or Louis Armstrong International is one of the worst airports in the world, if not the worst. My nephews are 11 and 13 years old. They needed a guardian to pick them up at the gate and sign permission to gain custody. Almost like a prisoner exchange, and I think there is some relevance. Still I digress, I drop my wife off at the gate to meet the boys at the gate for the exchange. After parking the car, I ran into the empty airport. Now granted it's 11:30 pm. Not 1 am. There is not a soul around. In our post 9/11 world I would figure they would have security still there. I was wrong. No porters, no cashiers, no security officers or police, not even the janitors who supposedly clean up the airport. The only ones there, were the few stragglers exiting the plane, the flight crew, and those picking up family or friends. It's crazy realizing it now, but my nephews exited the plane to an ghost-town and were smart enough to follow the other zombies down to the luggage pick-up. Probably the only thing that is more excruciating than waiting in line at the dmv while someone is screaming that they want to personalized their license plate to says AZZCLN, is waiting for your luggage. Everyone stands around that rotating merry go round carousel contemplating the numerous situations your luggage could be going through at this moment.

"Are my bags being thrown around like a bag of ice being broken up or did my bags even make the trip. Oh, please let me have my bags."

Next, is the positioning that takes place as we awaiting the luggage coming from behind the black tarp. It's almost as exciting as watching Let's Make a Deal. "Do you want wants behind curtain #1, Curtain #2, or what's in the box?"
I love to see people fighting for the first position along the carousel. It's entertaining. Like their luggage was more special. No, I don't think so. More like your luggage was what the one piled on top of everything and crammed into the belly of the plane, then dropped by mistake, rummaged through for personal items, and then placed at the top of the stack. Needless to say, my nephews got their luggage after an 30 minute wait. Now we are enjoying a few days of touring the city while they visit. No time to practice my poker moves.

1 Comments:

At 9:23 PM, Blogger bayou_boy504 said...

Maybe you could teach the boys how to play poker so that they can shark some of your lost money back for you.

 

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