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Oh, the humidity!

7 October 2014

Airplane

Stepping out of the airport after baggage claim, I'm immediately engulfed by humidity. Of course.

I'd been expecting it. I grew up with it in Florida. I forgot what it was like after a year-plus in Montana.

I'm immediately set upon by cab drivers as I walk to the cabstand. The first driver in line hops to, opens his door, ushers my bags in and asks where I'm going.

I name a hotel. He looks confused. He runs over to the cabstand proper, a shack with a struggling AC unit and confers with the woman inside.

"Sir? Where you going?" a heavily accented voice asks. I describe it, she exchanges words with the driver and soon we're off.

Welcome to Houston, Texas.