I am old enough to remember this being Friendship International Airport. Little is friendly in airports now. We are on our way to Jacksonville to pick up our ship for a five day cruise.
No free WiFi. I pulled a cable out of my bag and hooked the computer to my cellphone. Ran a quick speed test. 1356 Kbps down/306 Kbps up–not bad.
Helaine went upstairs and pretended to sleep early. I pretended late. I don’t think I got an hour. I can’t imagine she got any more.
Saturday morning travel is different than weekday. More families. More confusion. More guys, like the guy I saw, baffled as TSA asked about the three drinks in his carry-on.
Bought a magazine and book. Went to the gate. Four TSA agents were there going through bags. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but all I could think of was the Gestapo in a World War II movie. They were polite, but you had no choice but to be quiet and submit.
When a TSA agent opens my bag and sees a camera, lenses and myriad of cables, does he really know what he’s looking at and that I’m OK?
I fell right asleep on the plane. Now I a more tired.
I told Helaine I was looking forward to getting into our cabin so I could nap.
Right now I feel like the clipped sentences I am writing.