Airport run-in

It's an odd application of the Second Law of Thermodynamics, but I am always amazed at how chaos and order seem to cease to exist at airports.

I've had some interesting airport experiences in my life (none weirder than this one), such as sitting next to Darth Vader and selling him a drawing, or meeting Ana Mendieta when she was a graduate student (and getting a drawing from her).

But tonight, when I arrived at Dulles, I ran into Vance.

Vance is an American of Chinese ancestry, who happens to be an ex-Army Ranger, and one of the most lethal people on this planet. This is the kind of a guy who can kill you in a dozen different ways before you even know he's killing you.

Me: "Vance! What are you doing here?"

Vance [stares until he recognizes me]: "Lenny! I didn't recognize you... you're wearing a suit!" [Vance's imagery of me is in other style clothing].

Vance: "What's with the hair?" [I've been growing my hair]

Me: "What have you been up to?" [actually sounded like "What'cha bin up ta?"]

Vance: "Been training for a big fight in Argentina." [Vance is part of an "under-the-noise" circuit that fights for big money in freestyle fighting all over the world - a few years ago he actually lost an eye in a fight].

Me: "Mmmm.."

Vance: "I think a broke my clavicle in training though..."

Me: "Ahh..."

Vance: "I've been on travel though... so I haven't had time to see a doctor."

Me: "You should before you enter that tournament..."

Vance: [looking at me like that "here's your sign" comedian from the Blue Collar Comedy Tour] "yeah..."

Me: "see ya Vance..."

Vance: "Take care Lenny..."

Airports...