Late night flight to Seattle


I’d booked a seat on the last flight out of San Francisco to Seattle, not realising that as my Lyrt driver would be booking it to SFO, I’d arrive with three hours to spare. That was good, because the flight was delayed by an hour, and so were the flights before it. As a result, I got onto the previous flight and ended up in Seattle an hour earlier than I’d expected. Of course, I’d paid for a seat upgrade in advance and I didn’t get that on my new flight, but I did get a complementary bag of pretzels on the plane. Although so did everyone. Living large, y’all.

The flight was uneventful, apart from the landing where I’m sure the plane bounced. Boeing manufacture their planes in Washington State, so maybe this counts as some sort of celebration of homecoming. I got off the plane, magnificently irritated by slow moving people blocking my way on escalators, and also enraged by people with wheeled suitcases. I have some sympathy for Peep Show’s Super Hans and his view on wheeled luggage: don’t make the earth carry things for you, pick the damn bag up.

But anyway. At Seattle International, the spirits of the taxi Drivers have been broken and here’s a special pick up area for Uber and Lyft customers. Or it’s punishing the riders, because it feels like a squalid cattle pen for people with iPhones. I suppose it’s all interpretation. I’m glad though of the higher efficiency of transportation when you ride share, instead of everyone needing their own taxi. But now I want automated vehicles, so I can avoid any more awkward conversations with Drivers. Well, I can dream.


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