Chapter 30: Like Swimming
The blond pretty boy attendant on Flight 169 winks at me while serving me a beer. He studies me from head to toe and has the balls to ask, “You a real cowboy or do you just like to play one?”
I laugh at his question and say, “My cowboy days are over for now. I’m going to be a city guy from this point on.”
Before Prettyboy attends another flyer, he shares some advice with me: “Keep the hat on. It brings out your eyes and cute roughness. I like it.”
“Will do,” I say, and nod, smiling from ear to ear, flying east, to my new home and life, and a guy that I hope is still in love with me.
* * * *
The taxi ride from JFK to The Warehouse is like riding a bull on a rampage. Bob tries to steer the cab around planet-size potholes, but hits as many as he misses. My body
