I am sitting in a departure lounge in Brisbane. Leaning the land of Oz, again.
I got up early, too early, n got here too early because Connie has an appointment at 9. My flight is not until 11, so I get to sit here and observe.
I have done what little emailing and “work” I must, have read a local paper, and sit here as the lounge fills. It was pretty empty when I got here.
I fly a lot so end up with a platinum frequent flyer rating, which means when ever I travel I get the use of The Lounge. Not that it’s amazing, but it is convenient.
A guy behind me is snoring quite loudly. He does that -snort n swallow then gasp- every so often.
The Auckland flight just got called so Mr snoring is packing up to go.
The efficient n friendly staff do a good job. They offer coffee n pastries n shitty scrambled eggs n mini wieners. The coffee is from a self serve button pusher machine. One cup at a time… Latte, flat white, espresso are only a button push away. The line at the coffee machine is always long.
The bizzy beaver bizzyness types are all plugged- in. Computers charging as they yakk into their phones. A couple puss-gutted lawyer types, with monstrous brief cases, discuss their pending case. The married couples sit quietly by each other.
I can only peg one couple as the “dirty weekend” goers. He is older, has some grey and shows his $. She is younger but not that young. They are over hapi , too gay, too anticipatory. They touch a lot. Laugh loudly. I bet they are heading to Fiji.
Looks like I am the only drinker this morn. My flight is long, we fly into the day so within a few hours it’ll be night. I will hit LAX at 6am, so don’t want coffee. Coffee is not good right now. I don’t want food either. But a bit of sedative, what a fine idea…
Just called my flight…
More later
The Native Iowan 
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