Left without having set up my new MBP. Or vacuuming. Place was a mess. Rushed. Left stuff behind, like the gift adaptor for Jina. Took a cab at 2057; told the driver that my flight was at 2150, which was in fact the original flight time. But it had been delayed 70 minutes—to 2300. Yet it warned me not to believe it, that it might actually leave on time, even though the apps all showed that the flight was physically 70 minutes behind and so would not arrive on time. But physically impossible things are known not to happen, so I pushed myself.

Got there and organized my new MBP at a tall table at the terminal. The flight finally departed at 2344.

I sat next to a super gay guy with absolutely terrible breath. I mean astonishingly bad breath. He had taken a huge dose of Xanax and told me about his heartbreak. Fell in lust with a super hot ultra-goddess, Taiwanese, and “daughter of a billionaire.” She has BPD, according to his description. She glommed onto him totally, talked about a deep long-term relationship, then as soon as he took the bait and reciprocated with equally loving remarks, she dropped him. He should have stayed alpha, should have played it cool. He loved my advice and agreed with everything I said. But then, during the deepest part of my analysis, he fell asleep.

Meanwhile, the video monitor in front of me was awesome; the flight monitor especially. They had a shitload of recent movies. I picked The Last Jedi. It made my cry.

Buddy woke and apologized for passing out and was impressed with my memory of all his embarrassing details. Then told him my story. He gave me his card. He started by finding people who were buying properties with the intention of renting them during holiday time. Now he has enough capital that he just buys them himself.