High flying

I walked into Jack's Restaurant and Bar on a Thursday night recently and I found an old friend I hadn't seen in a few months.

"Jail?" I asked.

"Nope," Roz responded. "But almost."

Roz was celebrating with a festive table of friends and he quickly let me in on the reason for the Jager shots and sloppy dancing. The next day, Roz was scheduled to fly out of St. Thomas and make his way back to the Middle East -- he called it "the sandbox" -- for a second tour of duty in Afghanistan.

I was amazed at the news and like everyone in the bar that night, I bought him a round of shots.

The next day, I was scurrying through the airport and found a tiny bit of space in the quarantined Spirit Air terminal at King Airport.

Roz sees me and is aghast. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked.

Well, I was flying home for a quick visit and failed to mention that to him during our celebration the night before.

"I didn't want to steal your thunder last night," I said. "You're going to fight in a war and I just had a craving for Taco Bell that I no longer can ignore."

We look at our plane tickets: Same flight. Cool. Same row. Wow. Exit row. Holy crap. This is getting weird.

We get on the plane after a few beers -- of course the flight was delayed over an hour -- and after everyone had packed onto the full flight, no one sits in between us. That's when the party really started.

Alright. Bare with me here. Roz is a U.S. military service member so free drinks are almost essential. Turns out one of the male flight attendants was gay and how did he put it...

"I play on that team, too," Roz said.

He wasn't joking. These guys start flirting and the free drinks start flowing. I was in the aisle seat and got caught in the crossfire. Little mini bottles of Sky vodka and Mister T's Bold Bloody Mary Mix had me slurring my speech before we even crossed over Cuba.

Great conversations with Roz. Don't Ask, Don't Tell had just been repealed by the Senate and by the end of the flight, this guy had me one step away from joining the Navy. Seriously. I actually was talking about joining the Navy for the next few days but then it wavered. Maybe next time.

It's one cool thing about living on this island. I've never been on an inbound or outbound flight without recognizing someone I know. I've even started to recognize the flight attendants. The same one that was single and ready to mingle with Roz was the same guy on my connecting flight from Miami to DC.

Roz got off in Miami -- he said he was going to blow up South Beach one last time. The next day, he made his way to Dallas and then it was off to the sandbox.

The flight attendant knew I was straight despite my dapper threads and asked if I wanted another bloody. Of course, I obliged but then he said he would now have to charge me.

Damn. Maybe I should have joined the Navy.