Breaking up with Frank

I’m breaking up with Frank.



Frank and I used to be close. He was the one that I would come to gladly. He made me smile to see his bright and gleaming steel and metal and overwhelming collection of big planes as I wiped the sleep from my eyes. I’d fly all night to see Frank. Afterall, he does live across the Atlantic. We didn’t see each other much, but how I loved Frank. See his picture?


I was the one that defended him when others complained about him. He’s long and wide and kinda hard to figure out sometimes, but I had a rhythm with Frank. He was always good to me.


But lately, Frank and I started having problems. I guess you could say it started when I switched carriers. Frank hid the new carrier in what seemed like a dungeon. I had to walk what felt like miles to get there. And, then Frank really started presenting me with some bad company. No pleasantries. This was atypical of Frank – at least I thought so.

But this trip to see Frank made me feel certain that it was time to call the relationship off. As I flew in to see Frank, he played me. As tired as I was, I approached the officer to give him my passport. No smiles. No morgen. No talking. No nothing. Okay, Frank was being non-responsive today. It was alright.

I had a three hour layover, so I made my usual strides to do a few things while I waited. I moved from Terminal 2 to Terminal 1. No traffic, just walking to the Skyline and riding over. I went to the Lufthansa transfer counter. No sense of urgency. Slow and more slow. I went through security, making the strides through the rows, only to be cut off by someone who the officer let through in front of me. No courtesy. I went through the scanners. No problem. I walked all the way to the gate at the west end of nowhere. The sign said it should take me 8 minutes to walk there. It did. I finally saw Gate 32. No room. All the seats were taken. I moved further to gate 34 just to sit down. About 30 minutes before boarding, I decided to move back to gate 32. Glad I did. I checked on my flight and it had been moved to another gate. I did not hear a gate change announcement – back on the swollen feet again to a gate near the security line – gate 11. 8 more minutes. All of this made me realize something – Frank does not love me. So, I’m breaking up with Frank before he breaks me. I cannot take the layout and the people and the changes any further.

Frank, what they said about you was true. I’m breaking up with you. No longer will I see you Mr. Frankfurt Airport. I’m turning my attention to Munich now. I hope you will understand.

And, I hope you bloggers will understand! Just having a bit of fun! Happy to be back in the US!



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