2) Panda Express. Dadgum, my stomach just got queasy thinking about it.
3) Customer service reps who fake-type on their computers. I know those perfect, evenly spaced keystrokes in concert with your vapid expression cannot be connected to any aspect of reality. The entire dog and pony show was created by some psych major-turned customer loyalty director who did a study (n = 4) that showed lots of assiduous typing prior to a boarding pass being produced correlated positively with customer service experience.
4) People talking on cell phones. While talking to customer service reps. Or while getting fast food. Or while in the bathroom. Dude, seriously? No one, and I mean absolutely NO ONE is that important. EVER. Ever, ever, ever. And you, Mr. Wall Street talking loudly on you bluetooth while gesticulating wildly? You don't look super cool and business savvy. Just schizophrenic.
5) TSA. (If I say more, I'll probably get the special "cavity" search next time I go through security.)
Bonus) Personal space. Ok, I know the seats are narrow and you are not. But the armrests are there for a reason. Do not push them up so you can "fit in the seat" because that is a slippery slope which will result in my suffocation by the end of taxi and takeoff.
now for the good
1) Loyalty credit card that lets me jump to the almost-first-class-or-elderly-or-limping line for boarding.
2) BOOKS! Cannot stop flipping through books. Booksbooksbooks. Paper smell, book spines lined up in rows on shelves. BOOKS!
3) US magazine (or similar). The only time I flip through those glossy magazines is when I have to fly somewhere. I'm like Pavlov's dog. A little sniff of jet fuel, and I'm putting down 4.99 for a People magazine. Every single time without fail.
4) Opportunities for brisk walks or runs down concourses, while dragging a mis-aligned carry-on bag. Shoulder tweaked, neck tweaked. Still missed flight, but yippee, if I jog another 1/2 mile in the other direction, I could make the next flight out. Exercise + business. What a swell combination. Too bad there is sweat under my boobs and I have to get off the plane and go to a meeting.
5) The little light on the plane that means aforementioned moron cannot use his cell phone for the duration of the flight. (Unfortunately, now, he's ordering Bloody Mary's -- hold the tomato juice -- at 7am. I will pray for a BAC of 0.35 which is the level of alcohol concentration that induces coma. Or surgical anesthesia equivalent. I'll be happy with either right about now.)
(Bonus) Panda Express (just kidding, please pass me a mylanta, my tummy is revolting against the mere contemplation of this airport food court choice)