Friday, September 18

Postcards from the airport

This weekend, I'm on a quick jaunt down to L.A. for a friend's wedding. But for now, I'm sitting in the airport, watching too much cable news (at least I'm caught up on world events in case of bad-wedding small talk), and worrying about how wrinkled my dress is getting in my carry-on bag. I've also walked virtually the entire length of the airport this morning, as I arrived far too early for my flight, and with all that spare time, I felt free to walk about for the best crappy breakfast service. (It was delightfully crappy, though BK was out of the cinna-minis, which just about broke my heart. And there's no Dunkin here, so I was completely screwed.)

With all the airport-time I've been logging lately, I feel like complaining about the idiots who remain surprised about the whole "baggie/take shoes off/separate computer" thing. But I feel like I've complained about this before. Bygones. At least my flight is on time. For now.

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