Here's the Thing About Airports, Part One

It's 10:11. I've been up since 6. Please consider this an excuse for any mechanical issues this post contains.

We got to the airport two hours early because we wanted to leave room for early morning work traffic. It's Memorial Day. As always, my time in the airport so far has been an adventure.

When will airlines ever learn to have more than one employee at the desk? That poor lady was in a heated discussion with three customers when we got in line. While she attempted to deal with a combination meltdown/midlife crisis, the line snaked around the desk and into the middle of the airport. The girl standing in front of the desk was in tears, the older last kept shaking her head in confusion, and the man with them kept saying, "Calm down. We are going to get home. We will get home." It seemed very heroic of him, but in the end the American Airline employee announced there was nothing she could do for them.

Thankfully the Stegalls were there in ample time. I checked my bag, went through security, and found my terminal. 

My flight has been delayed. I'm waiting for it now. Apparently there is a part missing and "the mechanic assures us it is a quick fix." (The stewardess has said this probably 34 times in the few minutes I've been here.) I'm a little worried about my connection in Dallas, although she assures us we will be on our way soon.

It's crazy busy in the terminal, and there aren't many seats available. I found one, but as I sat down, an older lady said to me, and I quote, "Ma'am, those seats are taken. They're for my two sisters. You can't see them because they're invisible."

I've always said I am a weird people magnet. 

I rest my case.