Airport Observations

Every time I go to the airport, I want to blog about all the amazing observations. After all, between two 3-hour flights and a 3-hour layover, you are bound to see some things that you like, i.e. gorgeous black men; and things that you do not like, i.e. lots of saggy breasts. I will explain...

There was nothing too interesting to report the first day I spent at the airport. Flying stand-by is always a risk - and this time I was not too lucky. I couldn't focus on entertaining myself, because I was too busy trying to figure out if I had a way to get home or not. Or at least to Atlanta. That was a no go. --- How could I have forgotten? When I approached the lady at the ticket counter to see if she could direct me at one point, I watched as she clicked away at her keyboard and then looked up at the tall, intimidating blond in front of her and said, "Could you back up about four steps? I can feel your energy in my space." I'm pretty sure I looked at her in shock and amusement. Who says that? She proceeded to ignore me, and did not seem to want to help me at all. ---

Today - I knew that I had a confirmed ticket. I knew where I stood with relation to time and place and everything went very smoothly. I watched the ticket agent at the gate patiently walk people over to the screens so they could see where there connections were. She didn't make the passengers come to her - she went to them in order to help out. I was very impressed. I wanted to give her a gold star.*

*Wouldn't it be great if I carried around gold stars and awarded people with them whenever I was super impressed with the way they handle a situation or treat a customer? I am not always able to show my thanks to that individual because they aren't helping me directly - and honestly, they might think that I was weird observing them and then commenting on it. BUT, if I were to hand out gold stars...

While waiting to board the plane, I notice a fairly attractive man-boy standing nearby. He happened to have his boarding pass out and he obviously wanted me to see where he was sitting - and - he obviously wanted me to see that he was sitting right next to me! I was mortified and excited all at once. He was cute... but it would be difficult to stare with him sitting so close...

That didn't matter - he started talking to me. I felt like Cady in Mean Girls when she is documenting every conversation she had with Aaron Samuels - "On October 13, he asked to borrow a pencil..." Anyway, I was cataloguing what he was saying. "There's a dog on the flight..." He mentioned with enthusiasm. "You're a pro at this, you read right through the take-off," he said with awe. I tried to come up with witty responses - they never lasted long. However, I did manage to talk enough to learn that he lives in Atlanta where he is about to begin his first year of nursing in order to become an anesthesiologist. He drinks rum and cranapple juice (To which I wanted to say, "I thought only pirates drank rum?" But didn't.) And his brother is getting ready to serve a mission in Nicaragua.

When I landed in Houston, I noticed that women in the Houston airport do not need to wear bras. Nor do they feel the need to cover their extremely saggy breasts. Yes, it is as disgusting as you just imagined. I needn't say more.

Houston airport also serves as a transit place for a lot of really, really good looking men. Of all colors, shapes and sizes. I am OK with this, as I was just looking anyway. When sitting on the sky tram, I was able to observe a whole basketball team (one guy said "Hi," and I took that as my cue to make sure they were basketball players...) and a hot Indian guy (you didn't think they existed, did you? They do) and a man that nearly made me swoon. I only smiled at him - but I was seriously contemplating just letting him know how beautiful he was. I would have given him ALL my gold stars - just for smiling back. Too bad he needed to get off at terminal C.

The sky tram is a great place for people watching. And so watch I did. The sky tram is also very punctual. It takes exactly 7:42:89 minutes to get from terminal B to C to D, E and then back again. Even when it claims that it is being delayed, it does not change times. Which means, my friends, that there is a standard deviation of 0 when it comes to the mean run time of the sky tram. The tram is also a lot more rickety and ghetto than it was when Amy and I rode on it so many years ago. I was grateful that no one else thought to ride the sky tram for longer than they needed to, because I felt like Luna Lovegood (see Harry Potter) staring with a half-smile on my face, content in my odd behavior. The whole time I was biting my tongue because I wanted to ask everyone where they were going or where they had just been.