Big Shoulders
And then Doug came walking in. I met Doug during a nightmare hell flight back to New York from Chicago on Tuesday when my magic happy pills, which normally dull my terror of airplanes, suddenly and mysteriously went south and left me conscious and alert whilst I was 5 miles in the air. I don’t fly often but whenever I do I always make sure to pack my trusty bottle of Xanax and it’s always worked perfectly. Yes, I usually end up in a drooling stupor, but thanks to those little pills I’ve been able to travel to places like L.A., Colorado and Hawaii without freaking out all over my fellow passengers. But something went very wrong on this trip. I noticed it first on the flight out when I was more jittery than normal. However, I was so focused on traveling to a new city to meet new people that the fear slipped out of my mind as soon as I landed at O’Hare. The panic returned a thousand fold on the way out, though, beginning with a time-sucking slog through Chicago traffic that had m...