I arrived before anyone else… The sun wasn’t even up yet…

It wasn’t too hard to figure out where I was supposed to go… A building about the size of a QuickTrip was lit all lit up with three small jets parked just outside on the tarmac.

This was by far the smallest and nicest terminal I’d ever seen. It looked more like a maternity waiting room for the affluent…. Leather sofas… Potted trees and a coffee bar.

My bosses Amrit and Amy pulled up shortly after I got my luggage into the lobby. In tow: Aldo, Amy’s assistant and Erin – the staff architectural designer, and VP of design.

A fifth wheel, an electrical contractor named Ed was also along for the ride to check out the project.

When you approach a Leer jet for the first time… you notice one thing… It’s small.

I’ll wager that Amy’s SUV is about the same size… (Actually – the Lincoln Navigator has more head room).

We squeezed into this little capsule and once we got settled – were told that they had to make a repair so… we crawled back out and headed out for a quick breakfast sandwich while the repairs were made.

Back a half an hour later and we were up and off.

More consistent than the humm of the engines and the sound of air racing by was my running mental noise…. I was indexing all the famous people who have met their demise in small, private aircraft:

Jon Denver, Steve Ray Vaughan, Buddy Holly…

Fortunately my nerves and notoriously tiny bladder finaly broke this noise.. I had to pee…. Despite going twice before the first boarding… Again after disembarking… Once at McDonald’s and AGAIN before re-boarding.

I wondered about the small half-seat… leather upholstered like the rest and built into the burled rosewood cabinetry which held cookies and nano-vodkas and bourbons.

“That” was the bathroom.

A collapsible screen extends from a compartment at the pilots shoulder backward and envelops this jump-seat-shitter in a makeshift privacy screen.

I plead pathetic to my traveling companions, got up and gave it a try.

Well – Good news is that I was able to relieve myself before pissing my pants.

I also discovered I’d probably do good in Yoga.

We’re still in the air as I type this… We’re descending to our one and only stop in New Orleans to “check out” of the country. It’s only taken an hour and a half to get here from St. Louis… we are hauling ass.

I’m not blogging – I’m closing my eyes and waiting to feel the ground.