In the security line, some of you hunker into self-protective stances, hoping to minimalize human interaction and focus on the challenge ahead. Bagged liquids. Check. Boarding pass and ID. Check. Laptop out. Check. Undress. Check. Others of you make brazen eye contact, using the collective security-line disdain to your advantage, generating sympathetic head nods and small talk. You almost make it through and then
"I see utensils!" yells the security guard.
You and your line buddy roll your eyes.
"Who's bag is this?" the guard demands, holding up -
Wedding present. Check.
"I guess I'll get a gift card next time" - you joke with your line buddy.
In the corridors and bars and cafes, fellow loungers and readers and typers and scratchers and drinkers and loud mobile talkers linger. You're all in it together. At least you have that.