Yesterday I was one of those people who appears to have all the time in the world at an airport. I was one of them yesterday because I can’t seem to take care of my own travel arrangements. Give me 20 people and I’ll make sure they are good to go. Ask me when I leave DCA and the only number sticking in my head is 0700.
Being the good little traveler I am up at 0415 to ensure I hit the airport 2 hours prior to my flight. The hotel shuttle driver even commenting on how busy the airport was that morning was a huge vindication for the ungodly hour. “Good job,” I think to myself, “you will be able to get in and relax after the security line gaggle.” Visions of Bloody Mary breakfasts dancing through my head.
Then I round the corner and see the empty ticket counter. The maze of poles isn’t even in place. Hmmm…I’m not the brightest in the morning, so I decide a gander at my ticket would be in order. “Sometimes I fly out on a different carrier,” I think to myself. Then I find my ticket. I was right. I fly out of DCA on Frontier. But I also was wrong. My flight departs at 0900.
My brain has not been comboobled lately. Too much going on around me to even think about me. And when I try to think about me, well, this is what happens: I’m in a friggin airport four hours before my four hour flight pretending it’s cool I’m there. All because I didn’t take time to look after myself and ensure I knew when I was leaving town.
And, the bar wasn't even open.
Being the good little traveler I am up at 0415 to ensure I hit the airport 2 hours prior to my flight. The hotel shuttle driver even commenting on how busy the airport was that morning was a huge vindication for the ungodly hour. “Good job,” I think to myself, “you will be able to get in and relax after the security line gaggle.” Visions of Bloody Mary breakfasts dancing through my head.
Then I round the corner and see the empty ticket counter. The maze of poles isn’t even in place. Hmmm…I’m not the brightest in the morning, so I decide a gander at my ticket would be in order. “Sometimes I fly out on a different carrier,” I think to myself. Then I find my ticket. I was right. I fly out of DCA on Frontier. But I also was wrong. My flight departs at 0900.
My brain has not been comboobled lately. Too much going on around me to even think about me. And when I try to think about me, well, this is what happens: I’m in a friggin airport four hours before my four hour flight pretending it’s cool I’m there. All because I didn’t take time to look after myself and ensure I knew when I was leaving town.
And, the bar wasn't even open.
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