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Sunday, January 01, 2006
The flight was nondescript. Clouds, a whiff of turbulence, soft drinks, the standard issue of a twelve peanuts to each seat occupant. The western side of the continent was buried in white for most of the trip until the Panhandle appeared, in all its flat glory.
Once the plane landed, the plane waited a few minutes for an available gate before the passengers could disembark. As soon as the plane stopped moving, everyone jumped up from their seats.
The pilot's voice, with a distinctly Texan accent, came on the loudspeakers, "Sorry about the wait, folks. You know us woman drivers!"
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