I had a business trip to Minneapolis this last week. It's been a while since I've had to fly but I was quickly reminded of the stark difference between a seasoned traveler and well, no offense people, but the rest of the peons.
Road Warrior: Has their ticket and ID in hand. Their computer is readily available to pull out and put in a seperate bin and they wear easily removable shoes. They take the First Class/Business Class line through security. If you've been to an airport recently, you might notice it's not really that special of a line since it leads to the same security gate. However, it moves much faster.
Peon: Tries to enter the First Class/Business Class line because obviously, it's shorter. After the irritated airport worker points them to the correct line they look stunned that there was a clearly marked sign they missed. They fumble for their ID, totally forgot they'd ask for it and then dig their computer from the bottom of their suitcase while stuffing their ticket (which they will need to show again just after passing security) in the bottom of their carry-on.
Road Warrior: The Road Warrior takes off jacket, shoes, pulls out the plastic baggie of liquids and places them in the first bin. The second bin holds just the computer and finally the carry on and roller board. Once passing through security they put on their shoes, jacket and grab the baggie with one hand. They grab the computer from the second bin in the other hand and slip both baggie and computer into the carry-on, now taking the rollerboard and moving merrily on the way to their gate. First is last and last is first. It's a well-practiced and perfectly timed manuever.
Peon: They have to take a few minutes to get their many laced shoes off and forget about all the liquids in their bag not to mention the water bottle in their hand. Once they get through security they're asked to show their ticket again and they try to reach into the x-ray machine to grab the carry-on which is now being screened for all the liquids and the pocket knife they take everywhere for luck. Once said ticket is retrieved and they go through the security gate again, they hold up the line on the other side trying to get their shoes on and their stuff together.
Road Warrior: Waits patiently at the gate or the Admiral's Club with their blackberry, book, magazine, etc. They occasionally look at the clock and keep an eye on the gate which tips them off to when they are about to board. The pilots go down to the aircraft, then the local airport staff and finally the airline attendants. It's almost time so they get up and stand close to the gate.
Peon: Hangs out in the Hudson News looking for something entertaining. They go to McDonald's to get something to drink (since their water was confiscated at security) and talk loudly with traveling companions about ultra-personal stuff like Aunt Edna's knee surgery and their sister's abortion (no lie, I've overheard both). They get nervous and anxious with just about everything: rain, whether the airplane has arrived, why the crippled guy in a wheelchair with the oxygen tank gets to board first, etc.
Road Warrior: Boards the plane and smoothly puts the perfectly packed rollerboard overhead, slides the carryone underneath the seat and gets out of the aisle. Makes sure to grab a blanket to be used in case the flight is extra chilly or a pillow is needed. Resumes with their blackberry, book, magazine, etc.
Peon: Repeatedly tries to board before their group is called. When the gate agent points out the number clearly printed on their ticket they act stunned it's so obvious. Once on the aircraft, they grumble past the first class flyers and inwardly think about the injustice of the system. Little do they know these elite few willing to shell out serious money just so they don't have to fly anywhere near the peons is exatly what made the peons super duper ultra discount ticket possible. Once near their seat the peons attempt over and over to get their ridiculously over-stuffed luggage into the overhead compartment. After a few minutes an airline attendant makes her way through the aisle to help out since the peon is holding up the whole boarding process.
Road Warrior: Knows the rule of FEBO (front-even, back-odd) and since this is an even numbered flight is very aware the drink service will begin at the front. Once the cart goes past they go to the bathroom while there are no lines.
Peon: Looks intently at the crap sold on Sky Mall and is shocked the Sudoku and Mensa games are already filled in on their flight magazine. When the beverage cart comes around they ask what their choices are and after about 20 min join the long line waiting for the bathroom. Sometimes they try to use the restroom in first class where they are stopped by a savvy flight attendant.
Road Warrior: Upon landing checks their blackberry, makes only necessary business-related phone calls and deplanes as swiftly as they boarded. Once inside the terminal they quickly move to the monitors to check for a possible earlier flight and hence, shorter layover.
Peon: Upon landing is amazed leaving their cell phone on has drained the battery. With the few bars left, they immediately call a friend and says something obnoxious like, "Yeahhhhh, just landed in Chi-town" as if they travel all the time. Holds up the deplaning process by trying to pull out the overstuffed suitcase from the overhead. Checks their pockets for everything. Contemplates the cosmos. Once consciousness set in they're stunned the entire front of the plane is empty and they are holding up the entire back half of the plane. Once inside the terminal, they stop just outside the door again blocking everyone while they vainly look for signs of where to go. They're everywhere, it's just that these signs are invisible to peons. Eventually the peon moves a few feet and stands there again looking for a sign from God telling them where to go. Everyone else shuffles around them while they wait for the revelation to come.
Friends, the moral of this story is that I don't feel bad for my status as a frequent flyer. There's a reason the peons should be with the peons and while they may not tell you their life story, I'd rather travel with fellow road warriors than anyone in the world. If you rarely travel, I beg of you to observe these creatures of the road and sky and learn a lesson or two.
on my desk while I chowed on Combos? I don't like bananas because they make my tongue itch but in a strange twist of fate I LOVE the fake banana taste. My very favorite are Runts. If I could get a package of Runts that just has banana and oranges I'd be set. There's a sort of taffy that has a banana flavor I love but I rarely run into them.
Corn dogs: something tells me the CORN in the corn part isn't really authentic. It might be made of feed grain. Still, corn dogs are on a stick, you get to dip it and there's such a wonderful surprise in the middle. Of course, that "surprise" is probably made of pig's feet and goat lips but it's sooooo yummy.
t even begin to LOOK like they're good for you but they're ubiquitous. Everyone's had some! There's got to be a conspiracy. Kids try to logon to the White House website and hello, porn. I go to the vending machine for some low-fat Jr Mints and hello, Cheetos. You bite into them and they magically turn to dust in your mouth so you're eating mushy whatever-it's-really-made-of by the time you swallow. I usually have a bag of Cheetos once or twice a year but I find myself licking the orange "cheese" off my fingers at the end of it.
KFC: Despite the fact I only order the extra crispy, the chicken is slathered in oil which makes it easy to go down. I don't think the mashed potatoes come from Idaho. The corn has a funny taste. Yet once a year (usually on the 4th of July when I wish I had some BBQ food) I find myself frequenting this establishment. 
Now that I'm going to be a mom, I need a supermom haircut. After months of searching and weighing my options I finally found it when I saw Julia Stiles in The Bourne Ultimatum. THAT was what I wanted. When I sat down in the chair I told the stylist it's a truth universally acknowledged that a pregnant woman in possession of long hair must be made to keep it long. I needed her to make this haircut look like it was the best decision of my life. She smiled wryly and we were off to shampoo. Minutes later as she combed through my dripping hair, parted it and pulled out the scissors she commented how calm I was. 
