Stuck In A Moment
May. 13th, 2003 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_whitequeenDamn it. Henry, I'm sorry, Betsy and I were going to surprise you and try to make it to the filming of Hard Talk, or whatever it was you were filming last, but they locked down the airport because of this damned assassination attempt. I mean, God, what do they think, that this little mutant Lee Harvey is going to be flying in to the country? But of course, we are at JFK.
Henry, the party we're going to is at the Guggenheim, and I'm told it's going ahead as planned. In fact, I understand Shaw's now planning some sort of unveiling, and if it's what we think it is, he's picking his moment well, I'll give him that.
Anyway, the world's going all to shit, so Betsy and I have decided we're drinking that damn place dry. After that, we've booked a suite at the Four Seasons, and there's room for one more. For God's sake, come and join us, I'll put you down as my plus one and we'll use the old Jedi mind trick to get Betsy in. 'This is not the fabulous blonde you're looking for'.
That's assuming I ever get out of this stupid fucking airport. We can't get to our luggage, we can't get changed, we can't freshen up beyond a lemony spritz and a spearmint goddamn Lifesaver. I could just wear a handkerchief and my knickers, but I hate to wear the same outfit twice in public.
Maybe I should just go ahead and use the mind trick to get out of here. Betsy's listening to the news reports, I'll sign off and go and find her. I probably won't dial in again until we stir tomorrow, which I don't expect will happen any time before midday.
I'm not supposed to be using my laptop in here anyway, but it's not like there are any planes in the air. It's all so stupid. They took away my nailfile, you know. I can switch your brain off, you petty piece of shit, why would I try to stab you with a nailfile?
God, if I never see another airport as long as I live...
Henry, the party we're going to is at the Guggenheim, and I'm told it's going ahead as planned. In fact, I understand Shaw's now planning some sort of unveiling, and if it's what we think it is, he's picking his moment well, I'll give him that.
Anyway, the world's going all to shit, so Betsy and I have decided we're drinking that damn place dry. After that, we've booked a suite at the Four Seasons, and there's room for one more. For God's sake, come and join us, I'll put you down as my plus one and we'll use the old Jedi mind trick to get Betsy in. 'This is not the fabulous blonde you're looking for'.
That's assuming I ever get out of this stupid fucking airport. We can't get to our luggage, we can't get changed, we can't freshen up beyond a lemony spritz and a spearmint goddamn Lifesaver. I could just wear a handkerchief and my knickers, but I hate to wear the same outfit twice in public.
Maybe I should just go ahead and use the mind trick to get out of here. Betsy's listening to the news reports, I'll sign off and go and find her. I probably won't dial in again until we stir tomorrow, which I don't expect will happen any time before midday.
I'm not supposed to be using my laptop in here anyway, but it's not like there are any planes in the air. It's all so stupid. They took away my nailfile, you know. I can switch your brain off, you petty piece of shit, why would I try to stab you with a nailfile?
God, if I never see another airport as long as I live...
