Grand is a relative term...

Here I am in Grand Junction, Colorado ... arrived here from LaGuardia via Denver and now have a little under two hours wait for Kristine and Melissa, who I will meet at the Alamo counter where we pick up our convertible and head to Moab, Utah ... I kind of assumed these two hours of solitude in Grand Junction would entail my eating lunch, reading my book, basking in air conditioning, or at the very least a lazy ceiling fan. No such luck.

"There's a vending machine if you want some cookies," offered the very nice woman who works for the TSA.

"Is there more commerce nearby?" I asked hopefully.

"Commerce bank?" her colleague chimed in. "There's one a couple of miles east ..."

"No -- I mean somewhere close by where I can get a bite to eat -- besides cookies," I explained.

"They have crackers too!" she boasted. "But a restaurant? Not really. There are a couple of things a mile or two down the road."

"Can I walk it?" I asked, ignoring the seven different straps of varying weight crushing my shoulders.

"Oh -- you can't walk in this heat!" they assured me.

"Is there perhaps a taxi service?" I tried.

My query was greeted by a polite guffaw, if such a thing is possible. "Where are you from?"

"New York," I said with a smile, knowing I sounded like one-of-those types, like my former friend who led me on a miles-long ramble through Paris in search of a Diet Coke some 15 years ago.

"Well, welcome to our tiny Western town!" they crowed.

"Thanks so much," I said sincerely, briefly contemplating the vending machines. Even those bizarre orange crackers filled with peanut butter were beginning to seem appealing.

I've opted, instead, to sit outside, read, write, and loan my cell phone to a government official from Mexico City whose ride was late and whose phone card wasn't working. His ride arrived.

As Cheech, who I im'd a few moments ago, said, "You have full Wifi access and you can't even find a stinkin' sandwich?!"

Welcome to the start of my vacation. I am really, truly looking forward to the rest (now I only have an hour or so until my friends arrive!). I am, even more immediately, looking forward to my next bite of non-vending machine food.

You're all getting t-shirts that say, My friend went to Grand Junction, Colorado, and all I got were these lousy jam-filled packaged cookies.

I promise the next posts from this trip will be filled with mirth and merriment. Right now I'm going to head over to the John Deere truck working near by and see if the little woman packed an extra sandwich...