So there we were at a fairly small airport in Long Island, our preferred means of departing the area by air as opposed to the more busier, more hectic JKF or LaGuardia, as casa David prepared for our annual pilgrimage to Florida (followed by my continuation to the San Diego con.)
We encounter a huge line waiting for curbside check-in, but the line inside seems no shorter, so we wait. And wait. We inch forward. After about fifteen minutes of waiting, some guy steps in back of us. Apparently he doesn’t realize that he’s cutting in line, because there’s ten people behind us. It’s just that the woman behind us hadn’t yet moved forward because she had several suitcases to maneuver. Kathleen points out to him that he’s cutting in line and indicates where the actual end is. His response? He starts cursing at her, telling her to go f*** herself.
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