You Want a Bite?

Tucson greeted me with open arms. It's been a while since I've been here but it looks much like I remembered it. My flight from Baltimore had a connection in Dallas. As I boogied from gate C-32 to A-23, I decided to grab dinner from the airport Subway (boy, talk about oxymorons) rather than wait till I got to Tucson for food.

I'm not good saving food. I'm sure in a previous life I was a dachshund or something because once I know I have food to eat, it's all I can do to keep from devouring it. So it was with the sandwich on the airplane. We were no sooner in the air than I had the tray-table-in-front-of-me down with my foot-long resting on top of it.

Then the most awkward pang of conscience hit me. No one around me had anything to eat. Were they all as hungry as I was? Maybe some of them had traveled from Baltimore without the time to get dinner. Should I share? That's what I was taught in grade school. Would it be rude to eat when the others weren't being served? The airline was only offering small bags of chips. Could I actually sit there, the smell of oil and vinegar wafting through the cabin, and eat my sub?

Absolutely. Not a problem. Went down without a hitch.

And I enjoyed the bag of chips American gave me, too.
K-