Home No. 5

Hi, I'm Jami Attenberg. I write books, and much, much more. My fourth book, The Middlesteins, came out in 2012. You can order it here or here. My fifth book, Saint Mazie, will be published in 2015.

Also I like dogs and fighting crime.

This is the fifth place to find me on the internet. Please don't tell me I need a sixth.

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At LGA, the TSA agent and I greeted each other heartily, like we were old friends, joker types, ready for a good laugh. We both had big, curly hair. I think that was the connection. Wild girls.

In DC, the TSA agent told me she was blessed.

At LGA again, the TSA agent flirted with me a little bit. He gave me his regular old smile and then a follow-up smile. Gorgeous, big lips.

In Minneapolis, she was runny-eyed and red-skinned and her hair was a faded blonde, feathered, and down to her shoulders. I imagined all her tragedies and resented everyone who had broken her heart on her behalf. And then I forgave them.

At LGA a third time, the TSA agent made me take off my sunglasses I had been wearing to hide my hangover. “You going to make it?” she said. “Maybe,” I said.

In Austin, he was young and his skin was smooth and he had a beauty mark in his dimple and his hair was spiked with gel. This job was nothing to him.  He cared only for the weekend.

LGA: No nonsense, barely a glance, not even a hello. So stern. Sir. Why won’t you say hi to me? Please say hi to me.

In Chicago, her finger waves were perfect.

At LGA, the last time, I will admit I did not even pay attention. I had my eye on the prize and that was it. Get me to Maine.

At the Portland airport, a TSA agent stood back a bit and watched us all as we waited in the security line. I looked up from my phone and greeted him. He had round, gold-rimmed glasses. He smiled at me, motioned to my phone, and said, “I’m waiting for the day when you all have humps on the back of your neck.”

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