First of all, I don’t like to travel. I like to be other places but I don’t like going there.
The getting to wherever you want to be process, not fun so much anymore.
Imagine a seventy-five inch arthritic hermit crammed into a coach seat for, well, far too long. Deep in the pain cave.
Geezus, I know it’s an early flight, but next time, please change out of your pajamas.
Is that a dead body in your carry-on?
Speaking of which. If you check your luggage, it’s $25 per bag. Each way. If you wait until boarding, often not always, they’ll check your carry-on for free. Often not always, the first bag off.
The young redhead packs like she is going on safari and you can’t bring too much ammo. She can’t lift her bag overhead. And neither can I. But I don’t want her to know that.
And you should never wear your around-the-neck pillow away from the airplane.