There's a brand of poker you play at the airport. It's called who is going to the better place. I ran into a famous Carolina Panther at Charlotte-Douglas International Airport early Wednesday.
ME: Where you going?
FAMOUS PANTHER: New York. Where are going?
FP: From New York, I fly to London.
ME: From Miami, I fly to Tampa.
FP: From London, I fly to Africa.
ME: From Tampa, I go to downtown Tampa.
FP: On the way back, I might stop in Paris and buy some gifts for my family.
ME: On the way back, I might pick up the St. Petersburg Times.
Way I see it, it was a draw.
In unrelated airport news, we all complain about flights and delays. But we're as much to blame as the airlines. The activity people do most poorly is move, as our driving, running and even walking in the mall attests. But what human beings do worse than anything is get on and off airplanes.
People hover long before their row or zone is called just so they can, what -- get on the flight? It's not leaving without you, Jack, and nobody will take your seat.
The woman on the flight to Miami took more time to put her bag in the overhead bin than some women take to buy shoes. What, she was trying to coordinate the colors? The bag was not heavy and I couldn't offer to help her lift it because she was too far in front of me and because it probably would have clashed with my shirt, thus elongating the delay.
Worse was the guy who got off the flight to Tampa. He stood in the aisle and painstakingly put on his sports jacket. And it wasn't even a cool jacket. It was, like, yellow. Once properly attired, he reached up to the bin and withdrew his bag. Brad Hoover can run the length of a field in the time it took the guy to free his bag. Then he stood there before deigning to move. He was bald. I'm glad.