when people whine about cell phone etiquette, i am the first dude to roll my eyes and sputter demeaning comments about shutting up and joining the present... but today, a first. a middle-aged gentlewoman jewelry buyer for neiman marcus, sitting next to me in chicago o'hare airport, holding the phone to her head, WHEN IT'S ON FREAKING SPEAKERPHONE. volume is, of course, at 11 and my left ear is being pierced by the shrieking squawk of her coworker on the other end. hole. lee. crepe.
and now we look forward to the apparent futility that is trying to fly standby on the next three flights to the city by the gay. gotta love it when the travel agent says "that flight doesn't even have queue space."
two final thoughts about travel: non-business travelers are the best, they completely ignore all posted signs and placards and announcements even if the announcement was just made right in front of their face by an apoplectic gate agent. conversely, schmoozy 30-something sales guy travelers are the best, sweet-talking the gate agent from the side of the desk and always sitting next to the only hot chick in the gate area. together, they are the matter and antimatter of airport spacetime.
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