Friday, August 26, 2011


I always think, "I'll get my writing done at the airport." But the problem is that, by the time I get there, my entire day has been spent preparing for, thinking about, or getting to that place.* So I'll get this post written, all right, but it's going to be about exactly one thing: airports. My brain is fully flooded with that topic.

What's with the people that don't make it to the flight? The ones they call out at the terminal? It's not like they forgot, they must have checked in or no one would bother asking for them repeatedly. Of course, I have missed a flight before in one of the most stressful travel experiences of my life, so I know it can happen. But sometimes they read off like ten names. And those names are never "Gary Jones" or anything like that, but always something just a little weird, so that you wonder if it's actually an obscure Harry Potter character.

I know Arturias Lovewell and Elexia Roycroft are probably stuck at security after hitting a lot of traffic, but I like to think they simply got to the gate, looked down at their boarding pass, and decided to go bowling instead.

*Except of course when I walk through the terminal, where I  make a mental game of analyzing the incredible cross section of human life before me. "That guy seems like a jerk. That lady's hair is crazy! Hey mister business-y man, what's been going on with your smartphone in the last two minutes?"

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