Miranda held Number 892 and did her best to estimate the correct approach. In the past, she would have used her tape measure. But speed was of the essence here. Not only had Susan said so, but the constant interruptions of the flight operations were very trying. She had to freeze and mentally hold her thoughts still—each time a plane arrived or departed—to not lose her place.
She walked until she was four and a half table-lengths away—ten and two-thirds carefully measured paces—and held it nineteen inches above the table’s surface. There was a permissible degree-and-a-half of variation in the approach glideslope, so that should be enough to cover any errors.
No, it wasn’t.
A standard folding table was thirty inches tall. She pulled a tape measure from its pocket in her vest and checked
