In the City of Brotherly Love
After sitting in airplanes all day, next to chic ladies chewing strong-smelling fruit gum that made me want to hurl, I arrived in Philadelphia. Tired and hungry, I find out that the nearest eating establishment to the hotel is a bar. I am not a bar sort of person, but I’m hungry–so I go and order a cheeseburger to go. While I’m waiting for the food, a middle-aged guy takes a seat next to me, orders a drink (at least his second or third according to the perky blonde bartender), and proceeds to talk it up with a pair of dudes at the corner of the bar.
The two dudes look confused as they sip their beers and listen to the middle-aged guy rant about airplane toilets. “So are you a pilot?” one of them asks.
The ranter pauses awkwardly. “Uh nooo…I’m a professor.”
Then I get an earful about swine flu, viral reassortment, the mechanisms of antiviral drugs, and how the prof wants to take his family to the mountains and shoot anyone on sight–who happen to be sneezing. Meanwhile, I get my food and head off, feeling a little sorry for the two dudes who look like two deer caught in the headlights.
So, yep. That’s my introduction to Philly.