On the road again: Austin, day 4

The chicken and the poodle died in vain.
Omni shower: 3; Mark: 1. ‘Nuff said.

While I was on the treadmill this morning, an attractive mid-thirties woman entered the small hotel gym, approached me, gave me her best winning smile, and asked, “How much longer will you be there?” I considered lying and stopping early, but only for a split second, and then I answered truthfully, “Seventeen minutes.” She left clearly peeved.

Jennie, who was on the other treadmill, later commented, “You notice she didn’t ask me.”

Are we men really so gullible as to give up something we want for a winning smile?

In general, hell yeah.

But not today, and not in a gym, at least not I.

I’m happy to be free of that hell-hole of a hotel and back home. I had an exit-row aisle seat on the short leg from Austin to DFW, and on the longer flight home I was lucky enough to get the bulkhead aisle seat. I used to hate the bulkhead row, because you have to put your briefcase overhead until the pilot turns off the seatbelt lights, but I’ve come to appreciate the one great virtue of those seats: No one in front of you can lean into your space. So, I was able to work almost the entire flight, which is exactly what I want to do when I'm on a plane.

Last year, I sent Toni Slanted Jack on December 5. I’m pretty sure I’ll be a bit later with Overthrowing Heaven this year, but I am plowing ahead on the novel. As always, I’m not at all sure anyone else will like the book, but I’m enjoying it, and that’s a lot, really all that I can make sure I do.

Still, I hope you like it, too, when you read it. Don’t all writers?