Monday, February 13, 2017

5:21 am at Richmond International

1) I am sitting at gate B11 of the Richmond International Airport. I am here way too early, not just generally, but specifically too early for my flight home.

2) This is because I don't trust modern technology. I never dreamed that when I hit the Uber button in my motel room at 4:28 that Philip would be picking me up 6 minutes later.

2b) Uber is the greatest invention ever. It cost me $16.21 for a ride to the airport at 4:34 am. In Richmond. For Pete's sake.

3) I was also unprepared for the incredible speed and efficiency of the airport TSA screeners. They should be cloned and distributed to airports nationwide.

4) Food options here at this hour are extremely limited.

4a) I am eating something the woman who nuked it called disdainfully a "chicken sausage."

4b) I chose chicken sausage primarily for the bread it came wrapped in, an English muffin, as I don't like croissants (bacon) and distrust airport biscuits (sausage).

4c) The only other bread option, ciabatta, came with turkey bacon.

4d) Poultry sausage isn't good, but it beats poultry bacon.

4e) the coffee is acceptable.

5) At this hour, autocorrect is my good friend.

I went to Richmond to watch my daughter compete in a mock trial tournament. It was excellent, even if Nino Scalia's best friend did scold me for knitting. But that's another story.