Log 31: Fetching Father at the Airport

Our airport is particularly, always busy. The moment you drive your car in, a ticket man hands you a ticket and waits with an open hand. You give them the mandatory parking fee and sail through vehicles in hazard mode, vehicles haphazardly parked and the comings and goinga of travelers, vendors and well wishers alike.

Even the most unbelieving of persons will thank God they have found a space to park. Then you wait.

Father's flight arrived at 8:30 AM but asked me to be there an hour prior. I’m not used to waiting so long especially when there’s so much to attend to at the store.

I just want to mind my own business, literally. Is that too much to ask?