Seeing a small group of people crowded under a television screen, I faltered, wondering what had drawn them to the news. I shuddered as I marched toward the desk at my gate. A pair of strange, hot, sweaty, smelly bare feet next to me for four and a half hours? No, that was a hell my current state of mind couldn’t deal with. But as I was someone who suffered from mild claustrophobia, sitting in coach-with my luck stuck beside someone who would take their shoes and socks off during the flight-would be a million times worse than being hangry. I could be hangry all I wanted in an airport. And considering the purpose for my visit to Phoenix, it was no wonder I was marching through the terminal after having my bag searched in security, feeling like I might claw someone’s face off if I didn’t get a shot of caffeine in my system.Įven though I was hangry, my priority was to get upgraded to first class on my flight home to Boston. The grumbles in my belly were making that perfectly clear.
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