When I left for Missouri, I left on a day when it was quite foggy. The busiest travel day of the year, they said. I got checked in and through security quite easily. No problems. Before I left, though, I was talking to my mother the night before and I mentioned the possibility of heavy rains. She actually said to me, "Well, if you feel that it's not safe to fly, just wait for another flight."

WHA!?

"Now boarding flight 555 for Dallas/Ft. Worth at Gate 19."

"Boarding?! Now, I know y'all went to airport school and whatnot, but it is foggy out there! If you don't mind, I'll wait for the next one while everyone else boards this death trap."

On my connecting flight, I was in the best seat in the house. 1A. I was damn near in the cockpit. The flight attendant, though, began to get on my nerves by hitting on the girl behind me. He was sitting in his little flight attendant seat in front of me, so he was practically shouting through me to the girl. I was caught in the middle.

Anyway, he seemed destined to make sure everyone knew he wasn't a gay flight attendant. He kept talking about his ex-girlfriend and "the girl I'm seeing now."

They started talking about school and I soon found out she was going to go to law school. Surprisingly enough, his ex-girlfriend went to law school. He asked her what kind of law she was going to study and she said, "I'm not sure yet. Nothing boring like tax law." I think she wanted to be a Court TV lawyer.

I blocked them out for a while until I heard him say, "Well, that was more of a, um, hinde-- a uh, hinderance. Is that a word? HIN-DER-ANCE?"

"Yes," she replied.

"So yeah, it was a hinderance."

It's great how in the south, people will just start talking to you about nothing. When I was getting off the flight in Dallas, this guy just blurted out to no one in particular, "I sure hope my wife didn't come to pick me up." A flight attendant was nice enough to find out why this guy didn't want to see his wife. "Well, she just had foot surgery, so it ain't so easy for her to drive. I tole 'er not to, but who knows?"

"Well, how will you get home?"

"I'll just take a shuttle."

"Oh, they have shuttles around here?"

So they got into a giant conversation about shuttles in Dallas.

Anyway, let's talk about the borough of Queens. For this story, the borough is appropriately named.

Not long ago, I was going to visit a friend who lives close by. I left kind of early, so I went to a bar for a drink to kill 20 minutes. It was during the baseball playoffs, so I went to watch a bit of the game. As I sat there, I noticed this guy walk in who was drunker than drunk. He had a case of the stumbles. He started talking to this other guy in front of me. He awkwardly shook the guy's hand. He asked him what he was drinking. The not so drunk guy said something, but was obviously not interested in making a new friend.

But the new friend went and bought him a beer anyway. The guy told the drunk guy, "I said I didn't want a beer." But the drunk guy didn't get this and he continued to try and talk to him. I now am pretty sure he's just hitting on him. So the not so drunk guy gets up and leaves. I try my hardest to ignore the guy now, because I can see he has set his sights on me.

I stare at the TV.

He stares at me.

He walks near me.

I stare at the TV.

He mumbles something incoherent.

I stare at the TV.

He mumbles again.

I stare.

He says something again, this time I understand it.

He slurs to me, "You're way too handsome."

I stare at the TV.

Now, I know that I am not a bad lookin' fella. But I know for a fact that I am not "way too handsome." I'm not even sure it's possible to be "too" handsome. Jude Law is handsome, right? I've never heard anyone say he is too handsome. Plus, I just saw this guy get rejected by another dude, so I know I'm his second choice.

Men these days!

Anyway, I ignore him and he leaves the bar. Drunk as he was, he got the hint that I was not a gay fella.

So the other night at around 11:00 I am walking home from the subway after my trek back from the airport. I'm lugging my bags along beneath a steady drizzle a few blocks away from home. I go to pass a guy who is walking a little slower than me. He turns to look at me, and I notice that it is the guy who at one time thought I was way too handsome. I pass by him, and judging from the sound of his steps, he seems to walk a little faster.

I then hear him ask, with a very creepy elf like voice, "Is it raining?" I believe that was his pick-up line. Terrible line. I prefer, "You're way too handsome." Anyway, I ignore him, because it's pretty fucking obvious that it's raining and this guy wants to have some gay drizzle sex. Then I realize I am about a block from my apartment, and now I assume this guy is going to follow me to my apartment and rape me. But then I realize he is quite short and doesn't appear to be a very strong man, so I'd be able to fight him off and I'd rape him right back.

I almost turned around and said, "Don't even try it! I could totally rape you!"

Anyway, none of that was necessary, because when I turned down my block, he kept going straight (so to speak), presumably to a nearby bar to find some men that were way too handsome and could confirm the current weather.