“Do you want a granola bar?”
“It’s really good.”
“Do you want an ice-breaker?”
“No. Why are you trying to palm shit off to me?”
“I don’t know man. It’s a two hour wait. Might as well have a picnic.”
Airport conversations with Manish.
I hate granola bars.
It’s sweetened sawdust.
“Do you want to come outside?”
“No. Because you can’t go outside…. We’ve cleared security. They won’t let us out.”
“No. They won’t.”
“100 bucks says you can’t go out.”
I lost a 100 bucks today. Manish is inhaling pollution.
Over the last 3 days I’ve spent a collective 11 hours waiting at airports. And I’m not even done yet.
All the flights are delayed. It’s like they’re infected. One diseased aircraft bit another and now they all need rabies shots.
But the good thing, the minimalist silver lining to waiting at airports is that you have a lot of time for introspection. I mean, even if there is company, the conversation usually trickles down to icebreakers and someone or the other goes for a walk…. to introspect. It’s a default setting.
I kinda like it.
So alone, with so many people around in a very contained environment, hunting for green tea. Like tree hugging, health conscious zombies.
I probably like it more than others because I can hear aircrafts take off and land. I spent my entire childhood listening to afterburners come on. It’s home. Even though there is nothing supersonic about domestic airports.
Two missed weddings, 6 brilliant hours with my parents, Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ – I’m With You, one ticket refund, face time with Manish, a stellar, rubbish conversation with Memz, lots of terrible herbal tea, and of course dealing with existential issues whenever my ADD decided not to kick in. What’s not to like?!
Clearly I look at the glass as half full.
For the other half, I’m hoping someone comes up with teleportation soon. And gags all the people making announcements at airports.