Friday, April 16, 2010

It turns out... I'm that guy.

I'm walking up to the airplane at ~8:45 for a nearly on-time departure and try to look at myself from an outsider point of view.

I hear that my flight is boarding and I am both on the phone and on my computer trying to do a couple last minute tasks before having to shut down. I get off the phone and stride up to the gate without my ticket. There are a couple of men that seem to take pride in being the last to board, so when I stepped aside after realizing that my boarding pass was still in my pocket, they tried to wait for me, insisting that the person before them in line should stay before them in line. The gate agent reached for their tickets in order to scoot them along. So here I stand with my ticket pinched between the only pinchable fingers that aren’t claimed by other belongings, proactive assistance from the gate agent in removing my old tags (I stood there a bit awkwardly as if it were his duty in the first place and I wanted to take full advantage of my ticket fare) I thanked him kindly and strode downstairs to the outside boarding path of our little jet. as I’m heading to the valet cart to drop off my pink-tag-bag, this is when the self survey kicks in: I'm dragging my rolling bag with my right hand, wearing my backpack, and in my left hand I have my Grande Americano with non-fat milk clutched importantly, my blackberry being held easily with friction between my palm and the classic Starbucks cup, and between my index and middle finger I have expertly pinched my boarding pass so that I can verify I’m in seat 3C and prove it to the flight attendant if necessary.

This seems like a mess waiting to happen, but the presented demeanor was actually multitasking-effortlessness; which is when it hit me: I'm the guy that they make fun of in the movies. I'm the corporate yuppie.


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