As I usually manage to do, I got on the security line behind the elderly Eastern European woman who is taking her first flight ever and is trying to take every piece of metal she owns with her through the security line.
Grandma filled up three bins of stuff. She had everything but the family silverware.
The trip to Gate 21 has so far featured an escalator down, a long hallway with two moving walkways (for safety and convenience, please stand on the right and walk on the left) and another escalator up. I’m not sure I’m still in Massachusetts.
At the top of the final escalator was a Dunkin Donuts with a line of 40 people. Seriously, 40 people at 4:40 a.m. I’m glad I don’t drink coffee. Meanwhile, Famous Famiglia Pizza was serving breakfast. The offerings included an egg, cheese and sausage stromboli. There was a medical team standing by to perform bypasses for anybody who needed one.
I went with the cranberry juice.
Every airport looks the same. You could be in Seattle, Boston or Dallas. Same stores, same CNN on TV, same everything.
I’m semi-coherent. I can’t be responsible for what I type at this point.