"Malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to Man".
And although nothing that comes to mind can possibly justify American Airlines' ways to man (or woman, or dog) wine helps.
So here we are at midnight in Dallas Airport (where else?) at The Bodega with a couple of fellow Tucsonians (and sufferers) Bao woke up at the sound of a cellophane packet of potato chips being opened, and posed with Richard (who kindly bought me a glass of New Zealand merlot), Michelle and our Wineologist.
Whatever gets you through the night, right?
And it was a long, long night. We'd paid for a First Class ticket, but of course, there were no seats available. It didn't really matter because the people in First Class didn't get anything to eat, either. I'd say a pretty awful time was had by all.
We finally got home at 2 AM Tucson time, which was 5 AM New York time, which means that I basically stayed up all night. I haven't done that since the Senior Prom, and I am totally wiped out, and poor little Bao isn't far behind.
I'll tell you what. Tucson never looked so good!