<div class="floatleft">(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l530/WyldeSK/constance_zpsbe8df73d.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Constance Meadows</span></span><br/>Location: Dallas-Fort Worth Airport Sheraton - Room 1569<br/>Tags: All<br/><br/>"Damn right," answered Connie as she drained the glass and filled herself another...<br/><br/>________________<br/><br/>The clock read 10:45 and two empty wine bottles were scattered on the table, with a third well on the way. By now, Constance was leaning back on the couch, shoes kicked off, jacket open, and sipping at glass number who knows how many. "So... here she is right? And I'm bringing her shoe from the toilet after she's made the thing overflow by joining the mile-high club, and she's got the... balls... maybe that isn't the right word here, to complain how the damn thing is blue. Can you believe it?" From the peals of laughter that followed, it seemed that maybe she had made some peace with the day from Hell, with a little help from two new friends and a couple of bottles of an old one.