All right, starting to get tired.It’s now 2:30 EDT, I have settled in with vodka tonic near gate seven awaiting my 5:45PM flight. I actually started to do this fifteen minutes ago, but as I sat down and looked at my ticket to verify my departure time, I noticed the ticketing agent gave me a boarding pass for Mr. Jason Stephen. My confidence in the security of our air travel system is bolstered tenfold. I’m sure you all remember my experience in Chicago where my pocketknife—buried in my backpack and dulled and rusted from years of neglect—was confiscated while my traveling companion was allowed right through with hers dangling from her key chain. Oy vay.
Anyway, I spent the last seven hours killing time around the airport. I finally found a nice air-conditioned chair with my name on it down in the baggage claim area—it is really hard to find a seat if you are not at your gate inside the terminal. After trying three different seats, I finally found one with a working electrical outlet nearby that was secluded from pretty much everyone else. I watched John Wayne in The Sons of Katie Elder, made some phone calls, and then went back upstairs to sit in the massage chair at Brookstone. So only three hours and nine minutes left to wait. The good news is the flight has plenty of room on it. The bad news is that it may not be in business class. That would seriously piss me off, but not as much as waiting here for another twenty-four freaking’ hours. My next update should come from the train from Zurich to Lugano and, God willing, I’ll be at camp by noon tomorrow (Tuesday).
Until then, I really need a shower.