So I'm sitting outside a small hanger of a private airport in the outskirts of a major US city. I'm burning through a pack o smokes and on my 3rd cup of coffee. I got my carry on bag and a pretty slick leather jacket from a company called ScottVest that has enough pockets in it that my carry on bag is probably redundant. But like the sayin goes, two is one, and one is none. I picked up a new hat and I'm lovin it. Still needs some breakin in, but that's part of the fun.
I'm taking off my usual gigs for a few days and goin on an assignment for a buddy of mine's company. I can't really go into detail, but basically they want to borrow (hire) my "expertise" for a few days to a couple weeks.
We're making two stops on the way, touchin down in two countries before we get to our destination, which I still don't know yet. Should be an interesting little jaunt. It's about 36 degrees where I am now. It ain't too bad, but that's cold for a guy from the middle of ARkansas. Our first stop, temp is supposed to be 85 and muggy. Second stop is gonna break 105 and be dry as old cow bones. We gotta pick up 3 more guys and their teams of people (assistants and that kinda shit). I'm checkin out our plane now, and there ain't no way this thing is built for this kinda trek. We must be ditchin it at the first stop. I don't mind planes and all, and some of my best times involve a lot of people in tight, cramped, sweaty places. But the idea of crossing the pond on this thing filled with cheap aftershave, expensive perfume, and bodies from the 3rd world...well, I'd have to be drunk..er...than I plan on bein. And I don't wanna show up tanked. For all my bullshit, I'm still a pro when the time comes.
There's a pair suburban w blacked out windows makin their way along the tarmac (bout as subtle as a cannon painted in day glo orange). They make a stop and some generic PSD type guys get out while a greasy fat guy in a $3000 suit talks to some mid 30s guy that looks enough like a bum that he might actually be somebody. They talk, and I double check my bag one last time. I hate traveling this light. I know I'll have all the little gizmos I could want when we touch down, but for the time being...eh. I can make do (and have done more w less before) but it ain't ideal. At a private airport now, so it's not that restrictive, but I don't know what we're gonna pass through on the way over, and I still don't know the final destination (though its been hinted at).
Got a couple things to take care of any potential low-threat risks that I can also have on me without getting 5 minutes in a closet w an over-eager security guard w latex gloves. Also, two cartons of cigarettes (Marlboro Reds and Am Spirs), bottle of Scotch, and bottle of vodka.
I read a few blogs and kill time and finally the "crew" gets here.
And I'm off.