Dave Morin

A man lives on the tenth floor of a building. Every morning he takes the elevator down to the lobby and leaves the building. In the evening, he gets into the elevator, and, if there is someone else in the elevator - or if it was raining that day - he goes back to his floor directly. Otherwise, he goes to the seventh floor and walks up three flights of stairs to his apartment. Can you explain why it is so?

Fresh off the plane (on second thought, maybe that’s an oxymoron) from Denver to SFO. Frontier Airlines is certifiable proof that good marketing doesn’t always mean good product. But, since it’s a necessary evil for seamless Denver travel, I’ll take it.

Two things stand out in my mind tonight.

One, the never ending battle against the middle seat. Middle seats are by far one of the most un-nerving experiences ever, if you happen to be sandwiched between two people who don’t really have any interest in chatting with you. You can’t sleep, can’t really move around, and are just generally uncomfortable for [insert number here] hours. But, I digress.

Two (and I know my fellow regular fliers will agree with me), I loath when the stewardess declares that the plane is too full of luggage and you MUST put your carry-on below. [insert sinking heart feeling here] Thus leading to a chain of events generally inspired to slow the usual routine down. Generally I am pretty laid back and chill with such happening, but it has happened the last 3 times I have flown Frontier, along with a missed connection and an all-night layover (if you look a few blogs back).

Oh Frontier. Frontier.

But alas, a wonderful weekend nonetheless.