Franklinsanity

6:20 am, SFO – heading back to JFK and then CT. Skipped two days of posts!  Am sure I have lost a portion of our faithful 17 readers. 

Well, never fear. Interstitial travel time has once again surfaced. So once again I am edifying the world with my trenchant observations. 

For instance, nothing – and I mean nothing – wakes you up like a cup of really shitty ice coffee. 

I do this to myself fairly frequently:  order ice coffee at SFO from the Plant, which makes otherwise half decent breakfast sandwiches. Like Charlie Brown, Lucy and the football, it could be defined as insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. 

Their ice coffee is, literally, not potable. But a giant slug of it down the gullet?  Guarantee the taste, if not the caffeine, will turn over your engine. 

The TSA was up to its old tricks again. They moved the pre-check line into a utility corridor next to the most public bathrooms in the Virgin terminal. And understaffed it. So our line was longer than the main one. Periodically they would send staffers over to take the tail end of the line somewhere else. Without ever materially shortening it – and resulting only in simmering outrage and line FOMO. Kafkaesque. And weird, given that the pre-check line here is normally quite fast and seamless. 

Virgin, on the other hand, continues to rock. 

And despite its big, corporate, and slightly frightening South Bay/airport clientele, the Hyatt on 101 once again proved more than serviceable. (See below)

There is some kind of regional high school squash team on this plane. Wish Ted and Q could see it. They think the sport is something I made up, and that the racquet lying around the house is a joke item like a funny-looking tennis racquet. 

Looking forward to take off. If not to editing various documents….