Setting: Hudson News stand, departures terminal, Vegas airport. I stopped into buy the Pepto Bismol I’d been seeking for about 24 hours.

Aside — you’d think they’d sell that stuff in vending machines on the casino floor, next to packets of Alka Seltzer, rehydrating drinks, and a hefty array of painkillers, but I was striking out everywhere. Ironic sidebar? In another section of the sprawling convention center, The National Association of Convenience Stores trade show.

I hand over a ten and the classic pink box. I can’t help but notice that the clerk’s name tag says “Socrates.” He’s a not very tall, somewhat balding, late 30ish, maybe Phillipino guy with a fetching smile and a little bit of an accent.

Me: Wow, Socrates! Were your parents philosophers?

Socrates, laughing: No, no.

Me: Are YOU a philosopher?

Socrates, throwing his hands in the air and laughing: No, no, my parents are VERY disappointed in me!

Me: Well, I can see how working here would make a guy philosophical.

Socrates, laughing some more: VERY disappointed! They are VERY disappointed in me!