As I’ve mentioned, I do have a touch of my dad’s OCD. And the other day, when I was stuck in O’Hare most of the day, I was… bothered by the fact that the edge of the vinyl cushioned seat on which I sat was ripped, almost as if chewed away by a dog. I hated the way it felt, so of course I couldn’t stop touching it – like a sore tooth.
Then I remembered the tie-dyed duct tape in my bag. I looked around to see if anyone was watching, ripped off a piece and covered the offending tear. I was worried that TSA agents would suddenly appear and accuse me of trying to blow up the airport with explosive duct tape — but nothing.
So if you’re ever sitting at Gate 10 of the USAirways terminal, and you happen to notice a patch of pink and purple tie-dyed duct tape on the corner of an end-row seat?
That was me.
Wonderful story. Everyone should leave their mark on the world.
I’ll bet that tape will be there until the building is condemned for structural deficiencies.
love it.
I’m grumpy. This makes me even grumpier. No. I am not an old man.
I guess bag fees are not enough. Next the airlines will be charging repair fees for the seats in the waiting area.
PS. See you at NN in Providence next summer!