The mystique of air travel is dead.
Okay- Why do so many people insist upon looking like they have just rolled out of bed, thankfully not my bed but there they are in the airport security line. So how do you suppose these fellow travelers dress when not traveling, or embarking upon a special outing or adventure?
Ms.Bedhead just in front of me is holding up the security line. From the looks of her conveyor belt bin she has brought enough snacks for the entire plane, security made her leave behind the mountain dew...eww. Points should be awarded for sharing this holiday season ala the third grade birthday mantra of if you can't bring enough to share with the class then leave your goodies at home.
Lucky us- five hours of hydrogenated corn chips... Hope they have many many of those baby gin bottles to wash em down with. Gonna be a loooong flight. I dunno know, seems like if ever there was a time to brush the bed from your head that moment may be now... or at least before you forgot to brush your teeth...why pack then? I have empirically derived too much time people watching while awaiting a flight with a gin and tonic in my hand at any airport bar from Bangkok to Tel Aviv noticing that travelers sporting the largest and most loudly colored pull along (u know the ones, the size of a magenta hippo on wheels) always seem to be the worst dressed. So why pack the hippo sized luggage if you only sport sweats and trainers? Do you save the nice outfits for your evenings at outback steak house? Lucky us, we missed that photo op.
No mile high club for u my friend.
Nestled into my seat with fifty dollars of magazines, with a sweating glass sporting a twist in hand, maybe holiday travel needs to be viewed as more of a sociological study vs an exercise in cruel torture.
Off to the latitude of choice, 37 degrees.. choice of today that is, next month not so sure.
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