FRIDAY FLIGHT

So you couldn’t take the day off because you have a “real job” that requires you to “work five days a week” and you’re tired of mom & dad busting your balls because you “don’t come home enough” and “you should break up with Amanda because she forces you to spend 90% of your holidays at her parents house outside Minneapolis”. I get it. 

But you’ve known your buddy here for 14 years so you manage to sneak out of the office on a summer Friday anyway. Southwest 343 from JFK - AUS at 4:11pm. Not your favorite NYC Uber of all time but maybe you can get away with it in an expense report. 

Fully expecting the rest of the crew to be annihilated when you get there (they are), you throw a few margs together on the flight while you contemplate dropping your dead end career for that startup your friend asked you to be CFO of. The salary sucks but “we got you on equity, man”. 

These points are all moot if you’re just a guy who’s on bachelor party number 12 or you have a kid. No need to tack on that Thursday night unless you want to make up for it in airline miles or jewelry. 

Upon landing, you’re cool with the modernness of the airport until you’re 11 mins into the walk to your Uber. Like it couldn’t be farther away from an ideal spot. “Big taxi at it again” you think as you hop in with the driver and politely decline conversation. 

Next stop, the house or the hotel.