I had to deliver a couple of checks to
On board the plane someone had forgotten to load my diabetic meals. I'm not actually diabetic, but a pre-diabetic, brittle hypoglycemic. Sugar affects me the way booze affects most folks. First they serve us icky sandwiches. I forget whether they were filled with ham or turkey, but I remember it being something I won't eat and not much of it at that. The flight attendants were nice enough to get me some nuts from first class, for which I was most grateful. They felt good going down. The rest of the flight I relaxed, drank lots of diet soda, and did some arranging on my computer.
The flight got to Chicago with just enough time for me to grab dinner at one of the airport eateries. I wound up at Wolfgang Puck's eating an overpriced personal pizza, wishing I'd eaten the less overpriced food at Chili's. Oh well. They were out of iced tea, so I opted for a local microbrew, not wanting caffeine for the final leg of my flight. I bought a few tiny bottles of single malt scotch at the duty free store (it was the only thing that wasn't overpriced), a generously-portioned frozen nonfat decaf latte with a shot of sugar-free vanilla at a Starbuck's there, then waited for my flight by the only electrical outlet I could find (to recharge my laptop battery while waiting).
The flight to the UK was uncrowded. Anyone who wanted was able to sprawl out across a middle row of seats with as many blankets as they liked. I used the noise-cancelling headphones
Upon landing, we were guided into Customs. That was pretty easy. Nothing to declare, go on, goodbye. Then it was time to pick up my luggage. First I got my guitar. Eventually "Fido," the big suitcase with the hole on one end came through looking a tad more worn for the wear. The guy staffing the luggage carousel exclaimed, "Your suitcase has a hole in it. We must notify American Airlines at once!" Before I could stop him, he was hauling my suitcase. American wanted to replace it on the spot, but with an "off" brand and in an ugly color (I had choices like olive green or gray, whereas I prefer navy blue). I instead was given a certificate that will have them buy me luggage of my choice back in San Jose.
As I wheeled out my luggage we were shuttled through one last duty-free shop with ludicrously marked-up prices. I kept going and was immediately picked out of the crowd by
She and her husband live in a three-story townhouse in London equipped with a bigger kitchen than mine (that doesn't take much :-) ), a wireless network, a satellite TV system, and two adorable cats named Londo and Kosh. Once I figured out how to use my new digital camera, I took cat photos for Warren, who is also an "animal person" (hey, some of us need that inter-species thing!).