9:23 AM Tuesday - Miami International
I made it to the Airport on time. I had a little trouble getting through security. It seems that I had a bottle of English Leather and a flask of Macallan 12 yr scotch that were over the 3 oz liquid limit. Thinking quickly and not daring to waste good scotch, I downed the Macallan and dosed myself thoroughly with the English Leather. I then held out my cigarette and grinned at the nice security lady “You gotta ashtray Hon?” I winked.
After the subsequent interview and stripsearch, I found myself pressed for time. I had to sprint all the way to my gate, with shoelaces untied and my belt unbuckled. I felt like John Kruk rounding 3rd on a single up the middle. I became lightheaded and out of breathe. I needed air but all I could smell was English Leather & scotch. It was as if I was being suffocated by James Garner.
that was my first heart attack.
