Tomorrow morning, I embark on an adventure challenging and frightening enough to make even the most hardened New Yorkers take pause and reconsider their intentions. But I will grit my teeth, and with steely determination, I will do it... I will make my way across the city and through Queens to the John F Kennedy airport.
The journey is fraught with obstacles, some predictable and others wildly unexpected. My town car driver and I will be a wily pair of adventurers, negotiating traffic jams, random parades and demonstrations, accidents and the lot. We may even have to exit the Van Wyck Expressway and stealthily weave our way through unsuspecting suburban neighbourhoods in order to get there in time for me to catch my flight.
And once I arrive, that is just the first step. That's right, safe arrival at JFK does not guarantee success. Next I am at the mercy of the weather (not just here, but on the west coast, too), the assumption that the pilot and crew will actually show up for work that day and the fact that the blue-clad maintenance team is on top of their game and have made sure that the plane that will propel me and 200 other passengers is ready to go on yet another cross-country flight. Not to mention that security is, of course, on heightened alert given recent events both here and across the pond.
You may breezily assume that air travel is easy-peasy. I, with my recent history of missed and canceled flights, beg to differ.
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