There have been fleeting moments when I wondered why airport people wear blue-latex gloves. But I never dwelt on it. Until today.
I printed my pass at home. Between the arrival at the baggage check through to arriving at my seat no fewer than nine people looked at the document. Each one taking the document in their latex-clad fingers and studying the content. It makes me think of the life of a dollar bill, passing through the hands of so many. Each one leave some residual. Me, the one at each hand off; the conveyer of the document and the various things it accumulates. By no means do the gloves truncate the conveyance; they merely protect the wearer.
It may be time for me to put in the gloves.