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More insanity at the airport. Looks like official vacation season has started now that the War On Some Terrorism is officially in remission.
Low clouds mean planes can't land as fast as usual in San Francisco.
Planes not landing means they circle. Which means delays landing. Which means delays departing. And before long the ripples spread. You'd never guess it, but sometimes in San Francisco we get low clouds.
(The following is for those of you who complain that I'm a big tease and don't tell 'the whole story'. In this instance, the whole story is relevant.)
So there was this *really* cute girl named Brenda trying to get to Reno to get back home. She reminded me a lot of WindRose. Complained that she lost her ticket stubs all the time because she used them as bookmarks.
And I was being very professional and did not salivate or anything, but I did notice that there was nothing I could sell her a seat on today. Tomorrow looked vaguely better, but not much. Reno is, for some reason, suddenly popular. And so I nudged her name up on the 8:02 and made an explanatory note, while bending the rules about listing people on two different flights in case she didn't make it on that one.
And in the back of my mind I was hoping she didn't make it so I could be off duty and talk to her in a non-professional manner and offer to buy her dinner. But as I was boarding my eight o'clock flight I monitored hers on the computer and watched as twenty-six people decided not to go to Reno after all, and she scooted in as one of the last five people on the plane. And I was happy, and disappointed.
And then I drove home on 280 and watched the dragon devour the moon.
PS: And Mary made some really kick ass tequila lime chicken. And there were steak nuggets.
Low clouds mean planes can't land as fast as usual in San Francisco.
Planes not landing means they circle. Which means delays landing. Which means delays departing. And before long the ripples spread. You'd never guess it, but sometimes in San Francisco we get low clouds.
(The following is for those of you who complain that I'm a big tease and don't tell 'the whole story'. In this instance, the whole story is relevant.)
So there was this *really* cute girl named Brenda trying to get to Reno to get back home. She reminded me a lot of WindRose. Complained that she lost her ticket stubs all the time because she used them as bookmarks.
And I was being very professional and did not salivate or anything, but I did notice that there was nothing I could sell her a seat on today. Tomorrow looked vaguely better, but not much. Reno is, for some reason, suddenly popular. And so I nudged her name up on the 8:02 and made an explanatory note, while bending the rules about listing people on two different flights in case she didn't make it on that one.
And in the back of my mind I was hoping she didn't make it so I could be off duty and talk to her in a non-professional manner and offer to buy her dinner. But as I was boarding my eight o'clock flight I monitored hers on the computer and watched as twenty-six people decided not to go to Reno after all, and she scooted in as one of the last five people on the plane. And I was happy, and disappointed.
And then I drove home on 280 and watched the dragon devour the moon.
PS: And Mary made some really kick ass tequila lime chicken. And there were steak nuggets.