"No worries." The young clerk picked up the phone. "The plane is still on the tarmac. We'll drive you out to it."
"Really?" I couldn't believe my good luck.
"We aim to serve."
I followed him out of the terminal. Snow was melting on the ground and the sky was a winter blue.
Air France's Concorde was across the runway.
There wasn't a guard or cop in sight and I said to the clerk, "What if we hijack that to Paris?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea." He blew into his hands. "It's already going to Paris. I would want to go to Miami."
"Not a bad idea."
A Pan-Am car rolled up to the gate and took me out to the waiting prop plane.
The ground crew shut the door and I sat in my seat.
It was great living in the Free World.