My One-hundred-and-sixtieth Post

Actually, I almost made it on. And by almost, I mean, he ripped my ticket and let me past the Very Official Door guarding the little walkway that lead to the airplane. And then he called me back. The cabin door had been closed early. Thirty seconds too early. And so, while one agent was yelling down the passageway for an explanation, the other gingerly motioned me back into the airport proper. Probably afraid I would refuse to come. But it was not his fault anymore than it was mine. Now I'm sitting here. And the whole time I've been sitting here, the little restaurant/bar next to me has been playing Billy Joel songs nonstop.