I am not a Door Donkey. But I’ve encountered them. Eating beans pre-boarding. That’s the ticket – a beanie-wagon at the door, right inside Union station, close to the ticket-cancelling machines. Might beat back that cloying smell of cinnamon. Your colon may think you but your seat-mates will not. Guess it depends (no  pun) on how much you care. Might guarantee you a seat. Game on. I’m waiting for a cartoon about the donkeys who elbow each other out the doors and sprint to their vehicles, no matter what the weather. They take a quick swipe at the windshield as they yank open the car door, fire up the buggy and wheel out of the choked slot(s) to join the line of cars jockeying…

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