Six hours in an airport
looking at the same pictures over and over,
seeing dozens of unknown players
in the game that is keeping you here

A man's threshold of tolerance can be tested,
not by crying children, but by this.
Here's that guy in the bright yellow shirt and black pants again.
Bumblebee.
Bumblebee's only been flying around for two hours
with a big smile like he owns the place.

Play a little pinball or do some reading.
It won't matter.
Cognitive abilities numbed as you try
to see that damn airplane in the stereogram
that everyone else keeps seeing.

Toying with the notion of walking into the tavern
knowing full well you're underage.
At this point it doesn't matter if the local rental cop
discovers your little rouse.

Gift shop's closed now.
No matter, it was all overpriced junk anyway,
all but that cute pea soup colored soapstone figure,
the one like a bear.
That's just overpriced.

Feeling hungry? Then go to the airport restaurant.
After all this time you won't mind paying
seven dollars for a small fries
and a nice glass of black carbonated water

Talking to the attractive women
behind the counter helps for a while.
Connie and Kiersten.
Nice girls

Finally an announcement and yes,
the flight is further delayed for another four hours.
Behind all my disdain for the world there is a grin,
Bumblebee will get to see what it's like,
six hours in an airport.

06/27/2002

Posted on 06/27/2002
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