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Eventually,
after many hours, we decided it was about time to head
to the airport. Our decision was greatly facilitated by our
level of inebriation as well as by the sad realization that
we were out of beer. "But wait!" we said to ourselves, somehow
managing to slur both words. "They'll probably have beer at
the airport!"
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So off we headed, in the grey gloom
that comprises the vast majority of Oregon's weather. View
for yourselves the lovely day that saw us off. Who
could ever want to leave such a beautiful sky? What was that
about it being the color of a television tuned to a dead
channel? Ah well, we had more important things to do than
hang around outside staring at a thick cotton sky
blanket.
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Namely,
we needed to find some more beer, because our buzzes were
desperately attempting to wear off. As it happened, we
still had tons of time to wait before boarding
our plane, so we wandered around the airport in search of
a place to park ourselves for some further liquid
refreshment. Success!
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Happy hour!
All day Saturday! Yay Super Saturday! We settled in for some
serious pre-flight drinkering. Pints all the way, baby!
Memories of this point in time are somewhat blurry, oddly
enough, but I'm pretty sure there were successive rounds at
the airport bar. I'm not actually certain how we
managed to get on the plane intact and
on time. Maybe we didn't!
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