have your people call my people

You know those business guys who talk loudly on their cell phones in public places, walking around, so all of us can get a piece of the action? I sat next to the King of that today in the airport. His name was Bill, and apparently his phone buddies were "Jim", "Hugh", and "Ellis". And he was throwing around all the cliche's: "Can you fax that over to me?"..."Let's make the deal for $2 million, 500,000 up front."..."They'll balk at that". Frankly, I wanted to balk at Bill. I think he was play-acting this whole thing to impress those around him. I mean come on, who is named "Ellis" and "Hugh" anymore? And who makes deals for exactly 2 million dollars? Aren't "deals" a little more complicated than that? 2.27 million - now THAT would be impressive. I wanted to lean over and give the poor sop my condolences: "I'm sorry you have no friends and a tiny winkie." Maybe you could ditch the fake business deals in the airport and take up an interesting hobby to boost your self esteem. Stamp collecting, trombone, needlepoint. Anything really"." But I kept quiet, since I might end up having to sit next to him on the 5 hour flight.

It did break his game a little when he saw me writing something in my notebook. I wasn't writing about him, but once I realized he thought I was, I tried to time my scribbling to coincide with key points of his conversation. That was fun for a few minutes, but then I spotted something shiny that kept me occupied for the next 30 minutes.

Then we boarded the plane and the fun was over. It's only on an airplane that any human would calmly tolerate a stranger's butt in their face, and being repeatedly beaten in the head by the carry-on baggage of every passenger that walks by. On days like this, I feel like "The Boy in the Plastic Bubble" didn't have it so bad. I want a bubble!