Mile High Club (sort of)

On the airplane, I listened to some available in-flight songs such as Justin Bieber's Baby, Taylor Swift's Love Story, and the Beegees' Stayin' Alive.

I watched Date Night starring Steve Carrel and Tina Fey. Fey's easily MILF status. Date Night also featured Leighton Meester. I remember having Meester in my database months ago. I then remembered there was something I always wanted to try ... Milestone: It was time to bust a #3 while thousands of feet up in the air for the first time ever!

But to who? With my pants down in the airplane's restroom, I contemplated. Sure Leighton Meester's jackoffable. But this semi-Mile High Club first time experience should be to someone special I know. (I don't know anyone "special," so I have to settle for just "someone I know.") For example - ah, memory lane - my first time trying on a condom, I busted a #3 to this chick Rebekah (a classmate in my former Capoeira group from 2002-2003).

Damn it, I had finally gotten fellow PWG fan Sam out of my head by this point (after she inadvertently kept incepting herself in my database). But ever since she flat out said she was OK with friends with benefits (see entry 9-4-10), I've interpreted that as indirect permission to bust a #3 to her. And since no other chick I personally know has given anything resembling such permission, by default, my first time busting a #3 on a plane was to Sam. By default.

Uncle Oca picked us up from the airport and my mommy and I ate tamales from a box that Tito Alex sent with us.