The restroom echoes with a blast of shit from the next stall; the shock wave followed quickly by the smell of internal decay.  Simultaneously, a mobile telephone rings in the same stall.  Two rings, several farts, and a voice from within the metal cubicle:  "Hello?  Oh, me?  I'm in a taxi on my way back from the airport."

I bring Local Boy cheeky gifts from airports when I travel.  Roses are impersonal; tacky luggage tags show true affection.  I wander into AMERICA!, a store offering an impressive array of red, white and blue schlock.  The speakers embedded in the drop down ceiling blare a church choir: "He is LORD, the LORD is marching on!"  A jack-in-the-box toy features a tiny George Bush behind the White House Press room podium.  None of the women behind the cash register speak English.

I locate a quiet corner to eat my Big Mac Fly Away Meal.  I am unable to discern how the Fly Away Meal differs from the other Value Menu meals.  An airline pilot waiting for his plane is pitching a pyramid marketing company to someone:

"Yes, if you work hard enough, you could reach Emerald or even Platinum levels within a year!  You Donna and Bob?  They started out with one Platinum business and now they have FOUR!  You are on the King Team!  Hey, that seminar you are going to tonight?  Judy and Phil are double-Diamond speakers.  What is your dream?  Do you know what your dream is?  Judy and Phil did.  And now they are living their dream!  Take a tape recorder tonight because you are going to be big!"