It’s been over a month since I visited the airport. I’m currently in my “third office”, the airport. (Office #1 is real office; Office #2 is home; Office #3 is airport; Office 4 is Starbucks.)
Now that we have that down, I’m nested into my chair, laptop in my lap thinking about what happened between my car and here.
Things don’t change at the airport. Funny people doing funny – or icky – things.
I went to check on my return flight so I had to go to the counter. As soon as I’d finished my question, the gate agent says to her coworker, “I should have flossed.” TMI! But glad she warned me because then she proceeded to peck at the computer with one hand and pick her teeth with the other. She was having little success with either, so fortunately, she excused herself and went to the back.
While I waited a man stepped up to check his bags at the counter next to me. The agent asked if he had boarding passes. He said he did but that he was a bit unhappy because he wanted to sit with his wife. His number was A25 and hers was A27. The agent looked at him strangely. It seems he wasn’t aware that it wasn’t his seat number but the place in line they had and with those numbers there was little chance they would not be sitting together. He said, “Well, I guess it’s okay. We’ll just be a few rows apart.” Gate agent just looked at him and called, “Next!”
When my helper came back, she had gotten my answer and had shiny white teeth. Relief on both counts!
Finally, a man in front of me going through security takes his belt off as instructed. His pants drop to his knees in the screening tube. He grabs them. He wears grey jockey shorts.
Off to Vegas! Maybe I’ll be crazy there! But I can assure you I won’t be flossing in public.
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