The answer, my friends, is very simple; because I love it. I love the warm sensation of the first cocktail in my blood stream. I love the indifference which it often brings. I love the taste of Budweiser on a hot day after work. But most of all, I like to be free from the day to day confines of my mind.

The problem is, I’m not good at establishing parameters, and often times have found myself in various states of ridiculous. Take this past Sunday for instance.

I was trapped at LAX for 3.5 hours. Now, this is obviously a good time to catch up on my reading, sleeping, phone calls and letters. Especially because it was 8am when I woke up on the airport floor beneath one of those rows of seats. I knew how I had gotten there, that was certainly not the problem. The problem was the goddamn flight was delayed till 11:30.

So there I was, a man with options. A coffee stand to left and some Mexican joint to my right. The decision was difficult until my eyes caught a small sign behind the Mexican bartender; “Best Margaritas in all of L.A.!”. I whispered the phrase aloud to myself to be sure I had read this correctly.

“Best Margaritas in all if L.A.!”, yep, that’s what it said alright. They were challenging me. What kind of a worm would I be if neglected to take this challenge? How long would this hang over my head, constantly reminding me that I was weak. How long would the demon of that sign haunt my dreams?

“I’ll be the judge of that!” I said aloud, pulling my trousers up by the front belt loops. I pulled my bag along on it’s shitty plastic wheels and mumbled something about margaritas and the smell of pussy.

I slammed my luggage into the booth closest to the bar and collapsed under the weight of my own shoulders. Immediately, a young Mexican women shuffled towards me from the other side of the bar with a pen and order pad. “Hola, senior!...Would you like some coffee or juice? We also offer an excellent breakfast selection”.

The badge on her bosom read “Jenny”. Obviously to make things easier on weary travelers from places like Des Moines, Boise and Salt Lake City. If her name was Jenny, my name is Adolph Von Jesus III. Who cares, she was pleasant and had a very warm smile, like she had just smelled cookies baking in the oven.

“Look Jenny,” I said “I’ve been up all night. I’m not sure coffee and egg burritos are gonna do the trick. I need something to fix me.”

She looked at me with a somewhat puzzled appearance. Her eyes slowly pulled to the left, where I assumed they keep the mace.

My thoughts then wondered to my appearance. As I had stated, I slept at the airport for no more than 2 hours. Sleeping at the airport is like sleeping in jail; you always have one eye open and you’re never really sleeping. I was somewhat disheveled, but recently shaved. I think I may have startled the girl with a rant about a fix.

“The Thing is this Jenny, I read that sign you guys have about having the Best Margaritas and all, and I wanted see what’s doing for myself. Now, is there some kind of time problem we may have because it’s only three past eight, and this is the Sabbath and all”.

Her body relaxed. She now knew that I was only there for drink and merriment, not rape and pillage.

“No problem. What can I get you?” she returned.

“The Best Goddamn Margarita in all of L.A. Jenny, and stat. I have low blood sugar and require a cocktails forthwith!...poor fa vor”

She turned to place the order. I surveyed the poor slobs around me, eating egg tacos and washing them down with warm coffee. “Where the fuck am I?” I wondered. It was like some crazy hour of the morning and here we were, me and my fellow travelers. All of us had been through security, so we were all flying…but where? Where are all these people going? And more importantly Why? Christ, can’t you send an email or a fax, what is so goddamn important about this fat bastard across from me, that he needs to be seen? Hurling himself in a capsule 35,0000 feet above the sea level. To what end? What is this? Why is man on this continuous cycle of…”Here comes Jenny my drink!”

“Jenny, I was lonesome without you. Thank you” she passed me the green drink. What a silly color. Margaritas are green for some crazy reason. Sometimes you can get a red one, but those are for girls.

She waited for me to taste the concoction. I could tell she was proud.

I lapped at the rim while twisting my wrist for a taste of the salt then kissed the rim with an open mouth to let the sweet nectar run down my gullet and cool my pipes.

It was delicious. It was tangy not sour. It was salty not sweet. It was cold and I felt the fluids fill my chest. Instant gratification.

Jenny new I was pleased. Her eyes became slits as her cheeks were pushed in a smile. “I’ll check back”.

And check back she did. I managed to drink 5 of L.A.’s Best Margaritas, only looking up once in a while to see topography of people change around me. I felt like HG Wells in The Time Machine. Things seemed to moving quickly around me and constantly changing, yet I remained still and determined.

When the last call for my flight was being announced, I decided to simply bring my margarita with me. “No sense in dumping this down my throat” I thought, “This is a civilized culture”.

I walked on the plane with my cocktail. The ticket takers and attendants were either too afraid of this blithering drunk ranting on or simply did not care.

When I arrived at 5B I realized I was smack dab in the middle of two old ladies.

“Ladies!” I announced. “Would you be so kind as to hold my drink?” I asked the gal at the window. “And would you be so kind as to hold my book” I asked the gal on the isle.

They were very pleasant. In fact they were more amused with my antics than most. I thought this could use a bit more of a push. “Alright ladies, which would you like to talk about; Religion or Politics?” I asked taking another long draw from my drink.

“Oh my” the lady on my right (now known as Righty) said. “I was always told not to talk about either in polite conversation”.

“Enough with polite conversation” I bolted, my head turning from right to left to make eye contact with each of the ladies. “Let’s talk about something that matters”.

Immediately the one the left (now known as Lefty) said, “I agree. I’m tired of all this sissy footing around, I’m bored with conversations about movies and Kathy Lee. Let’s talk about that John Kerry”

“Yeah, he’s a crazy looking bastard, aint he” I said in support.

“Well other than looks he sure is trying to make our President look bad” Lefty said

Quickly Righty replied “Well, he did have a drug problem”.

Lefty was reeling, “What’s that got…

“Excuse me”, the thin white flight attendant now known as Lee interrupted. “We need your attention for emergency procedures” She smiled at me while she said this, so I naturally introduced myself.

“Hello…(reading her name tag) Lee. My name is DB. Please let me know if I can be of any service to you during this flight, because after all, we’re all civilized humans here”

Lee smiled. “That’s very thoughtful of you DB”. I love it when girls say my name. “I’ll be sure to remember you later. Now pay attention to the emergency procedures.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know about seats as flotation devices and oxygen from ceiling. Who could think about that kind of thing when there was a hot political debate on both sides of me and hot sex in front of me?

I finished my drink. We hadn’t even taken off and my glass was dry. These goddamn broads next to me were asking questions and seemed to think I had answers. I guess I had started it in a way, and it passed time until we were in the air.

“Finally” I thought, “We’re in the goddamn air.”

Now, I don’t have anxiety flying or any of that non sense, but I had consumed 5 cocktails in the matter of some 3.5 hours and I really had need to take a leak. The thing was, those goddamn seat belt signs. But I felt like we at reached a reasonable airspace, and I had this tremendous goddamn piss to deal with. Obviously, going before I got on was not considered and going in my pants now was out of the question.

“Fuck it”, seemed to be the most logical statement I could come up with. “Hey Righty, I gotta take a dump, can you excuse me for second?”

She giggled and looked down with embarrassment. I paused for a moment to appreciate the gravity of the situation. Here’s this old lady. She probably never runs into idiots like me in her circles, yet I gave her a giggle. I wanted nothing in return, but what I got was great.

I was rudely awaken from the day dream by the pressure on my bladder. It was now painful. I slinked past old Righty and made my way up to the lavatory. Lee and another flight attendant were sitting guard in front of the lavatory to deflect any possible users getting up while the seat belt sign was lit.

“Hey Lee and (I quickly read her badge) Karen!. I hate to be that guy, but I really got use it. I promise I wont get any on the walls or floor, but there could be a real situation if I don’t go in there, you know what I mean?”

They laughed too. It was my day.

“Well I guess if we couldn’t stop you, then we’d have an excuse too, right” Lee said

“Indeed” I said with index finger pointing straight up.

The leak was awesome. I mean I peed for like 4 minutes or something crazy. I know they thought I was taking a shit or shooting smack, but I was so happy with the piss, it didn’t matter.

I washed my hands and shut the door. Lee and Karen were smiling at me.

“So ladies, I gotta tell you, I love Song.” It’s true. I really like Song and wrote them a nice letter the next day. “How long have you guys been baby sitting these groups of rotten bastards?”

Again they laughed. We talked about Florida and Song and Movies and People and Pilots until it these bells kept interrupting the conversation.

Finally they asked me to sit down. “I’m going, I’m going. Can I get some booze first? I’m powerful thirsty and sure would like a nip to chase away the anxiety”. They agreed to sell me a bottle of Scotch and a bottle of Rum, provided that I conceal our deal from the other passengers.

Of course this was not a problem.

“I am willing to work for this ladies” I said. It was off color and somewhat racy, but it did elicit a response.

“Well what can you do?” Karen asked.

“I can help serve the food and collect the trash” I snapped back

“You’re on” Lee smiled. “Now go sit down before you fall down”

When I arrived at my seat, I was happy to see Righty and Lefty engaged in deep conversation. “Righty, you’re gonna hate me before this thing is finished, but I need sit down because the Captain is sore at me for hanging out up there the whole time.”

“Did you really talk to the Captain?” Old Left enquired

“Naw, but I did have a Captain and T’neal record when I was a kid” I said as I pulled the bottle of Rum from my right front pocket. I knew that I had to separate the two so I would know which was which in case of a medical emergency.

“What do you have there?” asked Righty.

“Just a small token of my affection for the sea” I said as I guzzled down half the bottle of Rum.

By the time I guzzled the other half of the bottle, we were talking about food. I then told them that I was selected to help with the food and trash today. They could not or would not believe me. Finally I called Lee over to settle to the dispute.

“Lee, please tell these broads who’s helping you serve these sour servants.”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, but not only is DB helping us today, but we’re ready for him right now” Lee said.

I shot up from my seat. Gave old Righty a whiff of my arse and proceeded to follow Lee to the galley.

“Now listen DB, it’s alright to have fun, but don’t offend anyone while helping us, because the Captain is sort of a prick. If he finds out that we had you collecting trash with us, he may get a bug up his ass.”

“It’s cool Babe. I’ll be a perfect gentlemen.” Which was a laugh, because she could see my eyes floating in my skull like ducks at the fair.

“Well you better, or we’ll throw you off this flight and you’ll have to walk home.” She smiled. Her lips were pursed and she ran her finger across her earlobe pulling the long strand of dark hair from her cheek. She wanted me. Well maybe not wanted, but she was flirting.

“Well we can’t have that now, can we?” I smiled. I could almost sense the over exaggeration of lips, but the alcohol was getting the better of me. “But never mind this Goddamn passion I’m feeling for you, let’s get the task at hand. You can always make passes at me once my job is done”.

She laughed. I laughed. The fat guy monitoring the whole goddamn conversation in the seat 1C even laughed.

Ahhhh Love or at least some serious lust.

“Okay, this is the collection cart”. She unveiled it from a compartment within the galley wall. It was like a trailer park queen revealing my trailer park game show prize. Lee even used the wave like motions of her hands to accentuate the sharp pointed corners of the cart.

After a few moments of jumbled instructions on the “collection cart”, I was ready for business.

“Turn me loose woman, I’m on a mission” I slurred.

What’s funny about rum is I actually hear myself slurring and know it’s wrong, but I’m helpless to fix the impediment.

My first victim was Tubby in 1C. He was all ears and smiles as made my descent on the passengers.

“Well hello there young man, can I take anything for you”?

His pudgy fingers fumbled with the tiny airplane servings as he collected the matter from his area.

“My, my, you have some appetite, my friend!” I proclaimed.

“I sure do!” He said with a good deal of pride.

“Come on, you passengers!, PITCH IN like my friend…what’s your name Bub?

“Marty” He chuckled, letting the Pringles crumbs tumble from his shirt.

“That’s right lady’s and gentlemen, Me and Marty Give a hoot about this great land of ours. If you give a damn and you’re a good American, you’ll pass those pesky cups and discarded containers towards me so we can properly dispose of these materials back at the base.”

They were please. No evil eyes, no angry guys. Just some good old folks ready for some entertainment.

I made my rounds and picked up the trash. I was compensated with more delicious rum and scotch and flirtatious looks from Lee.

After that, the rest is something of a blur.

I know the ending you all want, but I’m afraid I was crazy love sick with my hot girlfriend.

Lee did thank me over the loud speaker, which was like being on the local TV news.

Righty and Lefty thanked me for making their flight so enjoyable. I told them they could thank me by making out with each other.