This isn't the airport.

Last night was our weekly crochet meeting. We meet every Tuesday at a small bar/restaurant on my side of town (northwest). Our group recently filed to become a Chapter with the Crochet Guild of America. We are the Las Vegas Hookers. :) It was a very exciting evening; we had three new members show up. Angie (our resident crochet teacher) spent some time with one of them teaching her how to read a Christmas stocking pattern. One of the other new ladies brought an adorable black purse she’d made for her granddaughter; she’d edged the top of it with pink fun fur and made a floppy hat to match. So very cute!

A funny thing happened when I first arrived. A few weeks ago I purchased a wheeled yarn tote to carry all my supplies in. You can see it/get one here (mine is pink.) It’s completely loaded with several works in progress. Anyways as I approached to door to the bar, there was a drunken man standing outside. He was holding a set of keys in his hand and standing next to a bike and he commented on my tote…

Drunk man: This is a bar, not the airport.

Me: OK.

Drunk man: The airport is east, way over that direction. (waves his arm in that direction and slurs)

Me: OK

Drunk man: This isn’t the airport.

Me: Yes, I know.

Drunk man: But planes do land here sometimes.

Me: Uh huh.

I darted inside after that and told my friends about him.

I do have to admit he’s right, even about the planes landing…A couple of weeks ago a small one made an emergency crash landing in the middle of the street a few blocks over.