56 pounds
At the Denver airport last night, I heaved my suitcase onto the scale at the ticket counter, and cast a furtive glance at the damage: 56 pounds.
For the first time ever, I was going to incite an overweight charge.
But wait! Could this be my lucky day? The ticket man hasn’t seen the number yet. He’s asking for my ID. He’s handing me my boarding pass. He turns his back for one moment, and…
I made a run for it.*
I was around the corner before he turned back around to discover my beast of burden.
I triumphantly called my mom from the security line, jubilant at my own stealth. Ha-HAA, I outsmarted The Man! Take THAT.
*moments like this make me wish I had my own personal cameraman to document my life.
– – – – – – – –
So here I am, sitting across from my little nymph Greta in a coffee shop, working away. Seattle still has a way of wrapping me like a hug, and making me feel more at home than anywhere else.
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tags: Annie Parsons | Denver | Flying | Ridiculous | Seattle | Seattle | Travel
Great story. Way to stick it to the man.
Seattle is glad you’re here! Although it is a cold day – it feels warmer for the presence of one A. Parsons!
Yay!! You’re here!
congratulations!!! :) hope your time in seattle is joyous!
I know…Seattle looks good on me too :)
Woohoo! Go Annie!
are you gearing up for what you are going to do Monday morning at Seatac when they weigh your bag again?
Ha ha! If I had a nickel for every time I’ve winced at the airport, waiting for that weight meter to stop and serve me the weight of my luggage. My new solution? I just ship stuff in the mail because I’ve realized I’ll never be a light packer. *sigh*