I didn't drink much but it was a strong wheat beer. Apparently the oldest brewery in the world. Waiting for my flight and embracing my stream of conscious instead of fighting it or worse yet ignoring it.
I've determined that the big box below the jetway ramp is likely an air conditioner. The fan probably blows air across condensers and the big yellow flexible tube fastens somewhere on the plane to keep people from cooking at 112 degrees inside the metal tube with wings.
The black smudges on the ground are slightly offset. Why does the average pilot pull in juuuust left? Were the smudges there when they painted the lines? Maybe the painter fucked up. I doubt it.
The dangling umbilical. Prob electricity so the pilot can spin up all his gear for the checklist without draining the battery. It's so close to touching the ground, but it's not.
Dig this truck below me. Oh, it's a poop truck. Rubber gloves, tubes and weird metal vents or structures on the top.
These finely tuned purpose built machines. It's mechanical evolution. I mean, we are evolving them. They aren't evolving themselves so it's different right? Or is it? Who says we are in charge of evolving ourselves? Nature evolves us in reality. Our bodies respond based upon inputs and circumstances.
I've always avoided creative writing, but what the hell its worth a shot. I'd estimate this is worth about $0.83. Anything over that and I'm gonna pop!