Airports are not my natural habitat

Having twice flown in to and out of the Vancouver airport this week I am reminded that I hate airports with an even greater passion than I did in another life.

The Vancouver airport is under another stage of construction which once again has destroyed any iota of familiarity that I have built up with the facility. At this stage in the downward curve of my mental and physical being, I am easily confused and easily annoyed. If it’s possible, more the latter than the former.

To compound the assault on my weary traveler’s senses, the Tim Hortons has disappeared from the Gate C area, where I am normally deposited. Starbucks is still on location, but after the 2nd or 3rd visit to their counter you are in need of contacting your credit card supplier for an increase in your lending limits.

In additional to the aforementioned annoyances, my wait between my flight in and my flight home is arguably long enough to get married and raise a new family. Although that would necessitate committing bigamy which is frowned upon outside of certain communities.

Admittedly, there was a temptation to bribe the pilot flying the plane from Victoria to Vancouver to just bypass Vancouver and reroute the flight to my home base. But these days the airline companies are so damned touchy about those kind of negotiations with their personnel, I thought it was best to just suffer through the ordeal.

I could put all of this behind me if I thought that it was the last flight I would ever book. Alas, I see the future clearly and see more security lineups, more stumbling through construction areas and more waiting in uncomfortable seats for the promised next flight.

If the was a God, He (or She) would have given us wings of our own.


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