There is no Prana in the Atlanta airport. The air tastes scorched and acrid, circulating just enough O2 to maintain a dwindling life force. The food, served by Somalis, Kurds,and Malaysians does not look like the food from their homelands or mine, and watch out for the chicken salad.
I ride the escalator down to the shuttle under a shower of Ah-Choo!ing snotty babies and sniffling, Scotch-eyed businessmen smearing H1N1 and a family reunion of Rhino virus strains along the sticky handrails.
Maybe a Cinnabon will make it all better?
Juancho
5 comments:
Just sanitize your hands before licking the frosting off your fingers. I could go for a middle of the batch one right about now. Yum!
with the thick frosting on your fingers, walk hands-forward through the airport and scatter the zombies to the aisles.
If you put a cinnabon in a face mask, you could nibble it hands free, thus allowing you the delicacy of the pastry, the elimination of the need for hand sanitizer AND will offer that medically endorsed face mask protection.
Where are you going? And yes, a cinnabon makes everything better. Especially with a coffee.
nashville. every guy looks like billy ray cyrus. this the best collective advice ever found on this blog btw. good work.
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