Ritualistic landing drink


Landing back at the Cleveland airport I made my way that afternoon to the airport bar for my ritualistic landing drink.I was in no hurry because I never checked bags and I was generally never in a rush.As I watched the olives dance to the bottom of the glass and slowly make their way back to the top amist all the tiny bubbles they created I was reminded of a couple of facts that were to serve me well in the coming days.The first was very simple,if someone invites you to do somthing proclaiming it to be a blast,it never is.And secondly if I witnessed a murder and in explaining that murder to a group of ten people stratigically placing the word fuck in there several times at least half of the group would be more offended by the word fuck than the actual murder itself.That being said,at any given moment we are surrounded by people that are focused on the wrong things.

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