A blind man, let’s call him Bartholomew, had always dreamed of visiting Texas. He’d heard tales of vast landscapes, enormous steaks, and exceptionally friendly people (the kind that will offer you a whole plate of BBQ even if you just complimented their boots). So, armed with his trusty cane and a heart full of anticipation, Bartholomew boarded a plane to the Lone Star State.
As he settled into his seat, his fingers, surprisingly adept, began exploring the plush upholstery. “Wow,” he exclaimed to the passenger next to him, a woman with a Texan-sized smile and a truly impressive hat, “these seats are big! Absolutely enormous!”
The woman chuckled, a sound as warm and welcoming as a July Texas sunset. “Everything’s big in Texas, honey,” she replied, her voice dripping with that unique Texan drawl.
Bartholomew, intrigued, continued his exploration. He felt the armrests, the seatbelt, even the little pocket in front of him. “Even the… the… what are these things?” he asked, touching a pair of small, hard objects.
“Those are the in-flight magazines,” the woman explained patiently.
Bartholomew pondered this for a moment. “Big magazines?” he murmured, clearly impressed.
The woman smiled. “Oh honey,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, “you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. Wait ’til you get to the airport bathroom.”
