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Friday, December 16, 2016

Waiting in an Airport

{This was first penned years ago when I was working full-time and traveling some.  It's apparent at least by the reference to airplane meals.}

      Waiting in an Airport
Some people sit and read.
Others sit and stare about.
Some march purposefully down the concourse.
Others stand as if waiting in a line,
But not in a line, instead scattered throughout.
The ticket agent drones on declaring
who can board, who must wait.
She makes a “Pre-boarding” announcement.
Those with young offspring or personal frailties
get to “pre-board”. How does one “pre-board”?
It appears that they never really “pre-board”. 
They simply board before I do.
To “pre-board” would be to engage in some activity
and then to board.
I never “pre-board”.
When my offspring were young we stayed home, or we drove.
And my frailties are not the sort to get me special treatment.
In fact, I fear “pre-boarding”.
If I “pre-board”, then at mealtime they might decide to “preserve” me.
Don’t know how long I’d last.
Upon arrival would I be “pre-deplaned”? Or “pre-disposed”?
Should my data cause confusion, their computers might even precurse me.
But if we did safely reach our destination, would I then have made
“pre-arrangements” for transportation from the airport?
I would presume so. For that would mean I would arrive in time
to watch a pre-recorded program.
You know, that’s one where they recorded it once and then decided

to go back and pre-record it previously.

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