The airport gives one such a sense or adventure, if one is inclined towards adventure and likes calling themselves one. From the very moment you enter the airport the excitement begins: will this be the day that I somehow look suspicious and I need to be strip searched. I don’t know what kind of training the TSA personnel go through, but I know one of the classes is “how to think you are the Ruler of the Airport.” of course that class has best lectures on “how to pretend you have power” and “how to make people think they are inferior.” must be a thankless job, no one appreciates what you’re doing and you have to smell a lot of feet.
It is a drag, for them, for us, for all but the idiots that ran a couple of planes into buildings and ended the freedom we used to have when flying. I miss the days when you could walk around and scope out babes from all countries. I fantasizes that a French woman would run into me, say “pardon” (in a cute French accent, not the thing a Governor does just before someone gets the chair) and then would need to hangs her flight and go wherever I was going so we could make love.
Nope, all I get is people in line at Starbuck’s that don’t understand others need to get through. And their accent is from New Jersey and really, why does anyone wan to look like Snooki. Ok, first boarding call. Please put me next to someone thin. I can’t take another trip like last time where the two large women, because of he theory of displacement, had me riding halfway into the aisle. Flight attendants are merciless wih this carts-I haven’t been able to play tennis since.