The Red Carpet Club

I'm sitting in the Star Alliance Red Carpet Club. Its a wonderous place where you can set your luggage down and walk away from it without worrying about being accosted by a TSA agent who's God Given powers of groping are taken advantage of with great gusto. There are places to plug in your laptop and iPhone. There are snacks. Peppered cheeses and crackers so light they feel like they were made from the dandruff of an angel. There are men lounging around who have so enjoyed such extravagances over the years they have become round and bloated |They take up entire couches,  their penises a distant memory buried under a subcutaneous layer of cheese and liquor invoked fatness.

Wondrous creatures strut amongst the comfy chairs of this oasis, adorned in the latest fashions, leaving a vapor trail of confidence and chic. I know some of them are famous.I'm just not in tune enough to know how. I'm pretty sure the chick that plays Pam on the office was in here. I tried to get a picture but it was as though she had a 6th sense for that type of thing.

There is free liquor. Lots of it. Not all though. Segrams 7 is free. Canadian club is $7.50. But draft is free. It's a little slice of heaven to be sure. If you weren't careful, you might be fooled into thinking you were human.

But nothing worth having is without some strife.I had to over come the beast cerebus to gain entrance past the gates. This three headed monster would never let a mere coach travelling mortal such as myself into a garden such as this. The lead head regarded me suspiciously as I handed over my boarding pass from a previous flight, quickly pointing out that this was an oasis for the elite. I dodged and countered with my itinerary, showing my upcoming business class flight. The second head was now awakened and with a powerful thrust and gnashing maw entered my flight details into the magic box. I parried,  standing my ground until i was rewarded my golden fleece...a free internet access card and a welcoming, albeit begrudging wave into The inner sanctum of sanity.

As i was writing this a nice woman with a Carribean accent of some sort came by to clean a nearby table. I asked how she was and she said she was very well and asked how I was. I told her I was tired to which she replied..."You are human you know" If you're not careful...you might just believe it my friends, fortunately reality exists beyond the sliding glass doors of this red carpeted Eden. I'll break this spell yet!