The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Friday, August 16, 2002

She's leaving, on a jet plane (Part II)

Drove Spring to the Ft. Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport for her one-day trip to Denver to pick up her kids (yes, the same Denver airport with the underground empire I wrote about two weeks ago). Much less silliness at the Ft. Lauderdale-Hollywood International Airport. No car searches. No restricted levels.

Although the maze of ropes leading up to the security scanners was rather amusing.

The Hazzardous Guess of the Good Samaritan

“I think you might want to get into the next lane,” said Rob. I had just pulled into the left-turn lane to wait for the light and several cars in our lane had just maneuvered into adjacent lanes. “I think a car up ahead is stuck.”

“Okay,” I said, and maneuvered into the other left-hand lane. I was able to pull up past the car in trouble. Car seemed to be stalled with the driver just sitting there, making little attempt to do anything. I then watched the car in the mirror. “She should have her hazzards on.”

“Maybe she doesn't know how to turn them on,” said Rob.

“It could be an electrical problem,” I said. Rob turned around in time to see her flash her lights.

“Nope, she's got electrical.”

“Guess she doesn't know how to turn her hazzards on,” I said. Rob turned to face forward again while I still watched in the mirror. “Oh wait,” I said. “There goes a Good Samaritan to help her.”

Rob turned around and we both started watching. The Good Samaritan climbed into the driver's seat. Just then the hazzards flashed on. The Good Samaritan then got up and walked back to his car.

“Nice of him to turn on her hazzards,” I said. The light changed to green and we started to pull forward.

“Very,” said Rob. “Guess she didn't know.”

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