From what I can tell, Houston is a fascinating city. A unique blend of Texans and “other folks.”
I enjoy hearing Texans speak in their native tongue. I always thought a shoe shine was a shoe shine. Not so. A high-powered Texas attorney (complete with shiny, pointed boots) was looking for a “spit-shine.” I kept my ears open, eager to learn the difference. None was offered.
Apparently I’m the only ignorant one.
On my trip out to Houston the fascist Nazis (a.k.a. TSA) workers at the airport got to put another notch in their belts courtesy of yours truly. Apparently my torch lighter posed a national security risk and was promptly confiscated. The guy couldn’t possibly have been a bigger turd about it. He pulled it out of my bag, held it up like he’d just found a diamond on a dirt road, and proclaimed “guess what’s not making it on this flight.”
Now that one of the first special gifts my wife bought me is being used by that clown, I am in the market for a new torch lighter. It’s been almost 10 years since I’ve needed a lighter and am in need of a recommendation.
Life learner that I am, I have two takeaways from my trip to Houston:
A spit shine is not the same thing as a shoe shine (at least not in TX);
Leave your torch lighters at home if you’re traveling through the Tulsa airport.