She (who shall not be named) arrived at 6:20 for a 6:00AM pickup and was dressed smartly in a charcoal suit. I “didn’t mention” the tardiness by suggesting, “if I were the one 20 minutes late, I’d be hearing about it.” Above the din that ensued I requested a stop at the local bagel shop right on the way, but that was diverted with a reference back to my “non-reference” to timeliness and a now acute intent to deliver us on time. I see. Once on the highway, the first exit was taken and I wondered if a new route to the airport had been constructed in the strip mall. One hadn’t, but there was a mega-corporation with “Golden Arches” and apparently they serve the best coffee anywhere. “Do you want anything?” “No” emerged from my brooding self as my desire of healthy eating for Kyle and I took an early wrong turn as Kyle scarfed a “healthy” hash brown… Once back on the highway the incessant stream of nouns, verbs and other words commenced again. It was at that point I stared out the window and wondered if $24 bucks a day parking times 12 wasn’t such a bad idea… I do know she means well.
Not having an assigned seat fed my angst, as did the 45 minute wait line to have the privilege of accessing a cold check-in kiosk. Hey, I’m just happy we go seats, even if they were (36E and F) the last two on the plane.
If professional service hope the tip was "find another profession".