DEBRIS.COMgood for a laugh, or possibly an aneurysm

My day started as do most of my travel days, with the consumption of a pizza shortly after arriving at the airport. The St. Louis airport, oddly, boasts a California Pizza Kitchen, a restaurant I’ve actually never been to. Further down the terminal hallway I spied a Pizza Hut, too, making me feel wealthy beyond any rights.

I had a half-hour to kill before boarding, so I ordered the barbecued-chicken pizza and waited while they slid the pie into a huge wood-fired oven. This seemed like an unusual feature in an airport snack bar, but then again I guess kindling won’t show up on the X-ray machine at the head of the concourse. Anyway, the pizza was quite good; I can tell because, four hours later, I can still taste it. So, I think, can the woman sitting next to me.