A bunch of nipple ringed sissy boys?

(This was written on Friday, but I didn’t have internet connection)

Today I flew from Oklahoma City to Nashville. After today, I have decided that it is a good thing that I don’t travel often. I am convinced that if I were in a business where I traveled mostly by air, I would be both fat and broke. Probably in that order.

I woke up at 5 a.m. to leave by 6 a.m. to get to the airport in time. Between packing up my makeup and hair stuff after using it this morning and checking in online, I failed to find the time for breakfast or coffee.

So, as I am waiting for my 7:25 a.m. flight to board, I walk over to the nearest coffee shop in the terminal for a bagel and a plain cup of coffee.

5 dollars later, I am sitting in my seat on the plane, happily devouring the carbohydrate and cream cheese monstrosity and sipping on my brown sludge.

I think to myself, “well, five bucks ain’t so bad, as long as I can make it until I get to Nashville. Then I can go get real food at normal prices.”

1 and ½ hours later (9’ish?), I am sitting in the St. Louis airport listening to today’s BarBri lecture on my iPod. All of a sudden, I am struck by an unrelenting pang of hunger (funny, this pang often seems to appear when I am in the middle of studying). Anyway, I pack up my stuff (so long Criminal Procedure!) and begin the hunt for a healthy and filling snack. After bypassing a Wolfgang Puck Express and a Chili’s (is it really too early for a margarita?), I find a little magazine/snack/book store. Perfect! I swoop in and walk right past all the tabloids (Apparently, Jen has a new man!) and head straight to the food section. After spending about 10 agonizing minutes of scrutinizing the snack collection, I finally decide on raw almonds, a small package of dark chocolate M&Ms (what, it is dark and I didn’t drink a margarita. Gimme a break!) and a bottle of water. Puffed up with personal pride at my ability to ignore the king size reese’s peanut butter cups and double stuf oreos, I briskly place my snacks on the register counter. “That will be $6.96, ma’am” says the clerk. Freaking unbelievable. Sadly, I take out my debit card, and refuse to acknowledge the fact that $6.96 is almost enough to purchase a movie theater ticket, and is more than enough to get a combo at McDonalds. What a ripoff.

I go back to my seat, sadly pull out my BarBri stuff again (Hello again, Professor Blaze and your Indiana Jones-like sexiness), and promise myself that this time, this time I am done buying food. No more food for me. Also, I promise myself that I will savor every bite, and make each nibble earn that $6.96 price tag. One thing about having braces…I am still enjoying that $6.96 in my mouth, especially the almonds. Why do I always forget to pack a toothbrush in my purse on days like these?

2 trips to the in-airport Brooks Brothers, 4 runs to the potty (what? It was a big bottle of water) and 3 hours later (dude, seriously long layover in St. Louis. If only they had a nail salon in this place, I would be set.), I am hungry again. Surprise. Surprise. I look at my watch, confirm that yes, indeed, it is lunchtime, and decide that it would be okay to get a teeny weeny snack. You know, just to tide me over until I get to Nashville. So, I pack up my BarBri stuff again (So long Indiana!) and march back to the area with all the restaurants. At this point, I have decided that my teeny weeny snack would go great with a bottle, er, glass of wine, so I decide to go to Chili’s. It was really busy, with a long line, so I give up on the wine, and cross over to Wolfgang’s. I feel the need to tell you that I really don’t think Wolfgang Puck would approve of what’s being served under his name. I’m not even really sure what type of cooking Wolfgang is famous for, but last time I checked garden salads, personal pan pizzas, and turkey sandwiches aren’t really much to boast about. Anyway, I selected a chicken breast on foccacia bread and went up to pay. 8 stinkin’ dollars later, I am happily munching away and making a big crummy mess. Getting fatter and poorer by the second.

Total purchase amount? $20 bucks – for a bagel, coffee, water, almonds, M&M’s, and a sandwich. That’s interstate commerce robbery, for sure.

Okay, so one other probably more notable thing happened to me while I was waiting in the St. Louis airport. During one of my lectures, I see this tall crazy-looking man stride by and sit a few seats down from me. He’s wearing a camo cowboy hat, long ponytail, ratty t-shirt, camo shorts, and those older man leather sandals that Velcro around the ankle. The weird thing is that he looks so familiar, but I just can’t place him. We sit next to each other for about an hour (I’m studying, he’s surfing the web), and during that hour, about three people come up and shake his hand and another guys asks if he can take his picture. After I finish my lecture, my curiosity is uncontainable and finally I ask him:

“I know this is odd, but I have to ask you…what is your name? You look so familiar.”

“I’m Ted Newton.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I’m Ted Newton.”

“Oh!” I say while nodding my head. I still have no idea what he is saying. “Well, what do you do?”

“I’m a musician. I play guitar.”

“Oh, I see. Well, that is exciting. Are you on TV?”

“Sometimes, I have been on a few nature shows and you might have seen me on TV lately in the news.”

Hmmm, well that must be where I know you from.”

He shrugs, and gets up to go to the bathroom. Immediately, I text the Knight. “do u know some guitar player named ted newton? he is sitting next to me in the airport.”

He texts me back “nugent?”

“yes, that is him!”

So, Ted Nugent comes back and sits next to me. I still have no clue who he is.

I find out that he is on his way to Nashville for the CMA Music Festival. He is playing for/opening for Montgomery Gentry. He didn’t know who was who, but made a point to tell me that they and pretty much everyone else in country music were a bunch of nipple ringed sissy boys. He also ranted about how country music isn’t about country music anymore, that nobody totes guns like they used to, and he is just sick about how all of it (country music) is about fashion nowadays.

Basically, he was hilarious and crazy, but crazy in a nice sort of way.

We chatted for the rest of the layover, and then we lined up to board our plane. He boarded first, and I went to the back of the line to wait for my group number to be called. As soon as I got in line, all of the people swarmed me “What was Ted Nugent like?” “Was he nice?” “What did you talk about?” “Do you know Ted Nugent?”

So, when I got home, I Googled him and discovered, that yes, he is indeed who he claimed to be, and I actually do know who he is. He sings “Cat Scratch Fever” and you can see what he looks like here.

So, yeah, I met Ted Nugent, and probably offended him because I had no clue who he was, but at least it makes for an interesting story, right?


JDub said...

i can't believe you met Ted Nugent! i'm jealous!

jen said...

jason once waited in line in a bookstore to get his autograph!! he is so jealous of you!

Pargolo said...

best blog entry title ever, btw..!

Related Posts with Thumbnails