That Ain't Apple Juice

I am now a frequent visitor to the airport parking garage. They know me. I know them. We are pals, amigos, friends, family, comrades, peeps, homeys.....you get the pic. Anyhoo, I have bonded. Raphael is the crossing guard that blows his whistle. Clarence is the security guard that always says... "Places to go today huh Honey?" And Shauna is the TAS person whose line I try to get into. Most try to avoid her line - but not me. I gotta make her smile. And it ain't happened yet -- but I am tellin ya I WILL CRACK HER!

Anyhoo, I think I have seen about everything -- fender benders, late flights, late people, international travelers, cowboys, homeless, soldiers, -- you name it, I have experienced it.

But this week when I pulled into my parking spot and got out -- I saw something I have never seen before -- and someone from a more cultured background might not have fully understood the complete picture of what I saw BUT being the Country Girl that I am, it took me no time at all to use my deductive reasoning skills as to what had occurred in my parking spot only hours before my arrival. And all I am sayin is....that ain't apple juice.

Amen.