BWI Airport Portalocity Lounge, Saturday morning [05/04].

[howareyanow]

"What the ever-loving fuck is a Portalocity Lounge?"

Apparently, it was precisely the place where Wayne was standing, squared shoulders, thumbs in his belt loops, frowning up at the softest, most sparkliest banner he had ever seen...and he'd een to at least a baker's dozen of Dary's traditional soft birthday parties, so he knew a soft fucking banner when he saw one.

"That," he stated, to no one in particular, especially since he seemed to be the first one there (if you're not five minutes early, you're five minutes late, bud), "is fucking 10-ply."

But it was what it was. No going back now, ain't no reason to get excited, he supposed. Pitter-patter. So he turned his head sharply to one side of the lounge, eyed the chairs against the wall, and went to have a seat, one hand on his knee, tohe other around the smallest cup of coffee he could get, and settled in to wait.

[[ and the ocd is incoming has landed! Let's get at 'er. ]]