Believe it or not, it was my first solo flight. I had no idea we were going to reenact The Amazing Race.We touched down in adequate time after an unacceptable delay on the other end. But as I stared at the airport map planning my attack I tried not to notice the minutes ticking away.
Gates away, terminals to go, and I might never get to deplane. The families, the lolligaggers, the carry on luggage...
Carry on luggage that defies the name. There's lazy and there's necessity. If the luggage has to travel on wheels.... *however, comma, pause* technically if the luggage arrives on wheels no matter, it ain't carry on luggage.
Again, if you have to wedge your bag sideways to negotiate the Metro turn style, it might not be carry on luggage. I'm just saying.
As my feet hit the airport, my bag hit my back. On wheels would have NEVER made it. It was a sprint to the finish line and I made the cut. I would be advancing to the second round.
I missed my layover entirely, but at least I made my flight.
1 comment:
I think you're supposed to tear the back off your shirt after your first solo flight. Did you tear the back off your shirt?
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