If you have spent any time in an airport at all you have seen my co-workers and I. When I say co-workers, I don’t mean the people I work with at Jump. I mean every poor bugger that has to fly across three time zones countless times a year. Even if we are not all working for the same company, we are co-workers in spirit. We are the people moving at a brisk pace down the concourse with a jacket slung over one arm, pulling a piece of luggage with another arm, a cell phone is attached to our heads with duct tape, and we are cramming a $12 slice of $1 pizza into our chattering mouths with a third arm.…
~ a group blog on a variety of topics related to anthropology, sociology, and ordinary people ~
