Sitting at the terminal, everyone looks around at everyone else with suspicion. I found myself guilty of it. I don't profile my fellow passengers as much as I measure them up as foes, or co-heroes, if need be.
I am alone on this flight and I can feel it. There is a fear of saying, doing or carrying the wrong thing. BTW, I got through just fine with all my electronics. There were no machine guns here either.
It's just about time for me to board now...
[time passes]
Borded sucessfully. There is an odd man on the other side of the isle that looks really dazed and confused most of the time. The other times though, he seems to be looking at me as if he knows me. "Perhaps he's a geek," I think. Can't be, he's carrying a real brief case.
