At least once a month I’ll find myself in a line at the airport, shoving a small container of my folded belongings through an x-ray machine hoping they make it, without suspicion, to meet me on the other side. I know what city I’m in based on airport tiles and carpets. I have no shame attached to occasionally gate-checking a bag. I will sit patiently and wait for the system to do it’s thing around me.
Continue reading 10 Things I Do To Survive Airplane Travel at Joy the Baker.