It's ludicrous.We awake before the crack of dawn so we can stand in lines.
We stuff everything we can into one bag, and then we get to pay for its trip, too. After standing in that line, we find the bag is overweight, so we get to pay more. Or maybe we unpack in front of the world and tote flat irons and shoes and books in our already stuffed carry-on.
Then we remove our shoes, our jackets, our belts, our dignity. And we pay big bucks for this.
We strap ourselves into a large tin can and are hurtled through the clouds, enduring ear-popping, unbelievably close quarters, and substandard (if any) snacks. And we pay big bucks for this.
At our destination we wait yet again for the last bag to reach the carousel. (A misnomer, I’ve always thought. Where are the balloons and cotton candy when you need them? You’d think for the big bucks we shell out, there’s at least be a balloon or two near the “carousel.”)
All told, it seems ludicrous.
But then, there’s the payoff. The ecstasy that makes the agony worthwhile.
Forget that part about the big bucks.This is priceless.
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