She was alluring, surrounded by the airport's frenetic pace.
I slowed, I had a few moments between planes to savor the view. Her hair, just so, with a whiff of out of control. She was in boots, black, showing a bit of extra leg.
I did an emulation of crow with a shiny bobble.
Drawn, I all moth, she flame.
I didn't notice the kid wailing, dragged by his mom, her four other ducklings and husband, bags in tow, who mamba'd between us.
She looked up, a whim of relief crossed her face, her eyes locked into mine.
The sounds bouncing off the hard floor are making an almost melody.
And at corner of her mouth, a quirky smile started.
"Hello", she says, eyes dropping slowly to the floor.
A quiver, just hinted at behind her word, as a breathlessness overcame her.
I stepped a bit closer.
Her smell licked me. My pulse, it grew faster.
I stepped another step closer.
Time vibrated.
She said, "but I don't know...you".
I stepped again.
It all changed.
The stub nosed revolver is poking my gut in a most uncomfortable way.
See something, say something, just didn't seem to be a good idea in the moment.
My eyes grew large, her eyes grew steely...damn she was hot, in a strong woman kinda way.
Frankly, I was just good with the fact I wasn't pissing myself.
I mean it's not every day that the TSA gets it right. There were bad girls trying to get on planes. Of course, the fact that a gun was poking me in the gut, also comforted me, at least my lack of faith in the TSA remained.
At that moment, I discovered, armed wanton women can really get one's attention.
My world collapsed in upon it self, I focused on her. Each twitch she makes is alarmingly loud to me. Everything else, simply unheard, a white noise we are swimming in.
"You are going on a trip", she says.
The gun slipped across my belly, along my side, and then settling, resting, against my back, she urged me forward.
She cautioned, "I am bad at being good".
Now, I am just a normal guy, and, frankly this shit is blowing my mind. I'm walking but my brain is racing. I finally stop my feet from moving. My mouth finding a voice, "Hey!" I shouted. I spin around, showing a complete and stupid disregard for my personal safety, I face her.
Her eyebrow arches and my entire body explodes...
I hadn't seen the taser.
Now I'm dancing on the floor doing the fish outta water.
She bends over me, great cleavage, I think.
She smiled.
I realized I'm pissing my pants.
This wasn't shaping up to be a very good day.
I hear an announcement over the airports speaker system, it was swimming all in and out of my ears; a word here, a phrase there.
Something about unknown people in my luggage, I think.
Now, call me crazy, but I would think that the commotion cause by a middle aged man on the crowded airport's floor, who clearly is either the very best or very worse break dancer on the planet, would attract some interest. But the suits didn't even break stride. A wingtip, brown, stepped in front of my eyes, then lifted out of my blurry vision.
I magically levitate, with assistances of detached arms. They held me up, because my legs would not.
My head started to clear just about that time.
I'm thinking to myself, "you gotta be kidding".
I review my morning, up too early, grab a flight, not a great flight. Off to change planes. See a cute chic, and all hell breaks loose.
I am wondering if I was tripping.
I mean really!
Shit
Being dragged down the airport, pants pissed...
Totally surreal, in a most screwed way, ya know?
So at this point I am wondering if space men from Mars are going to show up.
"Oh come on!"' I thought. I was starting to get a bit angry.
The thought of a return engagement with the floor holds my tongue.
I am loaded into a private jet.
Oak on the walls, deep shag on the floor.
They plop me in a very comfy leather seat. She leans in, snapping the my seatbelt. Klick. With sexy in her smile and evil in her eyes.
I can feel my toes not hurting as much.
