Brad gets a pass

After hanging out with Ricky for 10 years, I’ve become what I consider to be a relatively sophisticated traveler, as least as far as white trash goes.

I check-in on line. I print out my boarding pass at home and zip by the teeming hoards standing in line at the airport like I’m Brad Pitt off to my private jet.

I make wisecracks with the customer service rep who is untangling my cluster muck of flight reservations which have suffered so many time changes since originally booked that my departure to Frankfurt from Newark actually leaves two hours before I get to Newark from Denver.

Bless her heart, she got me on a Lufthansa direct from Denver to Frankfurt and I made my connection to Venice on time. Note for future reference, the Germans run a tight ship and their flights are almost luxurious.

Yesterday returning from Tulsa to Fargo I really pushed the envelope. Ricky suggested I try sending my boarding pass to my smart phone and travel with no flight documents.

(While he was looking the other way, I printed docs and put in my briefcase, just in case)

So, I breezed through airport security and boarding with only a symbol like this for each of my flights:

One swipe across the appropriate scanner and the green light flashed and the beeper beeped and I was on my way.

Then I found my seat and broadcast a text to my family where I was and phoned Ricky to let him know I was departing on time and reviewed a client contract and then plugged in my earphones to listen to my favorite tunes and snoozed my way from Oklahoma to North Dakota.

Today’s Gay Agenda: Glad I’ve comfortably resigned myself to the fact I can live life being only 1/100th as smart as my smart phone.