Upsetting
Saturday, October 19, 2002
 
Denver International Airport is filled with creepy traveling businessmen who look like they have large stashes of child pornography. The three toss-bags talking behind Ramona and me are going on about how there won’t be any women at The Meeting.

“Well, there will be a couple,” one says in slow Texas drawl.

The youngest of the three, a guy I saw not wash his hands in the bathroom after taking a piss – and before shaking one of these dick-off’s hand – responds to this by saying,
“There’s gotta be. Someone’s gotta get the coffee.”

I loudly just told Ramona what these assholes behind us were talking about. I almost just wrote that she kept on reading the paper, but then she put it down and said something about these fuck-wads.

No wonder these business guys always have to pay for sex.
 
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