p.u.l.o.t.d.

it stands for pick-up-line-of-the-day.

... and it was really really lame.

setting the scene:

denver int'l airport. heading home from a weekend with andi. gate c30. i'm waiting to board the plane in the sweet little lines set up by southwest. a dude in a hawaiian shirt and cargo pants with a jansport backpack is standing in front of me. he turns around right before we proceed onto the plane.

dude: so, you look like you're heading home from somewhere.

aubry: yep.

dude: where?

aubry: denver!?

dude: ah, where are you headed?
aubry: salt lake?!

any other place... ANY OTHER PLACE... in the entire world would be an acceptable place to ask those questions. but, really?... in line... to get ONTO the plane? the SAME plane? where are you coming from? where are you going?

what he didn't know is that i only talk to strangers when i get paid for it.