I flew down to Philadelphia today and I hesitate to admit it, but the more I visit, the more I like the place. Bostonians–and New Yorkers, too, for that matter–are taught to detest the city as a faded relic of better, more industrial days. We like to think we are infinitely more superior than “the place that loves you back” (nee The City of Brotherly Love).
I had a long time to hang around the airport tonight before my flight back to Boston but was glad to get the chance to listen to the tail end of this conversation between a gate agent and a pair of infrequent travelers at gate A17.
Passenger: “Why isn’t our flight leaving from Terminal B anymore? Is there something wrong with the plane?”
Gate Agent: “No, m’am, there’s nothing wrong with the plane. It came from an international destination–Amsterdam.” [that is, it had to go through customs, located in Terminal A]
Passenger (now defeated): “OK, well it’s nice to know it came all the way from Amsterdam.”
And for the highlight of my day, if not my year, on my return flight, Minnie Driver sat across the aisle from me in Row 1!!!