Flying home from Seattle. I had a short layover/ transfer in San Jose. Sounds like an easy day.
It was an easy day, but with more color, table switching and intercoms.
I land in San Jose...thinking of all the Silicon Valley-ers and the money and idea-ville I am now in.
I notice the difference in airport attire/ or airplane attire. Less plaid, less long bearded men, more legging's and unpractical shoes (women mostly). Hee. For a moment, I do a self check to what I had thrown on that day. Somewhere in between Carhart and comfort. I'm wearing open "tennis shoes"/ bear claw style with socks. I don't really care if people see my socks as I'm NOT walking on an airport floor in my bare feet. No sir, no ma'am. No way, Jose'.
I have an hour and some change before the short jaunt to Burbank. I decide to go a few gates over to plant myself in a more non-crowded, peaceful area. I get situated and reflect of the wonderful time I had with my niece and the excitement we had over the few days. I made a few videos to my Georgia Sis and enjoyed the return of her videos as well. Marcos, we call them. As I'm filming one...I think I hear my name. Naw, can't be...why would somebody be calling my name in San Jose'? Skipped over to next thought and kept on goin'.
Okay, head to gate to board. Oh wow, nobody's lined up yet...just an agent with his mouth slightly agape. He looks at me and asks if I'm TK. Yes, I say. Uh, oh, did I miss my flight? We tried paging you, he said. Me: Gosh, I'm sorry, I guess I'm your flake of the day. He books me on next flight.
I can't believe myself. Well, yes I can
to be continued...
