I will be waiting for you at Miami International

Miami International is where most of my friendships with clients begin. It handles more than fifty million passengers a year, it is loud, and after a long flight the last thing anyone wants is to decode signage while dragging a suitcase. So here is my promise: when your plane touches down, I am already inside the terminal with a board that has your name on it, not shuffling around a cell phone lot somewhere on Le Jeune Road.

I know MIA the way you know your own street. American Airlines arrivals come out through the North Terminal at Concourse D; international flights on Air France, Lufthansa or LATAM clear customs in the Central Terminal at E through G; Delta, United and JetBlue land in the South Terminal at H and J. Tell me your airline and I will tell you which door you will walk out of, and I will be standing at it. Your quote includes airport parking, a full meet and greet, and thirty minutes of waiting on domestic arrivals, sixty on international, because customs lines are not your fault.

The ride itself is the easy part. Brickell and Downtown are fifteen to twenty-five minutes east on the 836, Miami Beach about half an hour, Coral Gables barely fifteen. I track your flight from departure, so an early landing means I am early, and a delay costs you nothing. While we drive you get a quiet car, cold water, WiFi, and, if you want it, my honest opinion on where to eat your first dinner in Miami.

One thing my regulars will tell you: I do not do the awkward curbside phone dance. No calling, no circling, no "which exit are you at". You walk out, you see your name, we go. That is how an arrival should feel, and it is why people who ride with me once tend to text me their flight number for every trip after.