Jack scooped up the ticket, then walked to his own, much more modest, conveyance.  He dug out his maps, found the airport labeled on the ticket, made a thick cheese sandwich, and hit the road.  Soon he was back on the interstate.  It irked him to not be able to visit New Orleans, but he couldn't afford to leave Thor to Legba's tender mercies.  In no time flat, he was at the airport.<br/><br/>He already had his ticket, and his "luggage" fit into a single backpack.  He'd had to leave the car behind in the airport parking lot; anyone staying at the Ritz could handle the bill.  He still took some time to reach the plane, though, since he was selected for 'random screening.'<em>Thorough</em>random screening.  He thanked his lucky stars that he never carried a weapon.  They'd looked suspiciously at his nail clippers, though.<br/><br/>Finally he was boarding the plane.  That was actually a pleasant experience-- his first-ever first-class flight.  He didn't touch the alcohol, of course.  Maybe looked at it once or twice.  The smell from his seat-mate's (only one other person, first class is amazing) drink reminded him of Eric.  So he was going to Philadelphia...