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Louise covers a dainty rivulet of spittle leaking from her Novocainned lips while waiting at the Portland airport.

Louise covers a dainty rivulet of spittle leaking from her Novocainned lips while waiting at the Portland airport.

This will be short. I’m using my phone and I’ve had two beers.

Which is nothing compared to Louise, who has had three martinis. Doubles. She’s pictured above, in gate C7, hiding her face but happy. Really happy.

A word of explanation: Today was to be our day of departure for Costa Rica, but then there was The Toothache. It arrived 48 hours ago and was as demanding as a surly teenager. The thought of travel into Costa Rica with a tooth like this was not encouraging. A dentist was summoned.

In the interest of brevity I’ll condense this story into one word: extraction. The tooth came out this morning. Consequently we missed our flight. Our next opportunity is five hours away.

So here we are in what’s been described as America’s best airport: Portland International. Louise could lament her predicament, but instead she quaffed the three martinis and ambled off to the massage parlor. (Of course the airport has a massage parlor: It’s the best airport in the country…) We will spend the night tonight at a motel in Los Angeles and resume our journey to Costa Rica tomorrow.

Lemons and lemonade. When one travels, that’s the way it has to be.

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