I’m in an airport right now.
Little early for the airport bar but got to thinking about them.
They annoy me with their faux atomsphere. Patrons who sit and don’t order anything or nurse a soda for four hours while they wait for their flight to Dayton piss me off. I hate the fact that a beer costs the same as my mortgage payment and the food is right up there with hospital fare.
I love to sit in the bar and watch airport people walk by. You can tell the ones who travel constantly. They have packing down to a science and have comfortable shoes.
People killing time often will talk more than those in a hurry. Sometimes they share more to a stranger than an aquaintance so you get to hear about their fears, passions, wants and desires.
Other times it’s families of four yelling at each other on their way back from their mandated Disney trip. I believe you shouldn’t be allowed in a bar unless you’re of drinking age. It has nothing to do with drinking. It has to do with keeping miserable children away from.
My plane is boarding.