You know I love the airport, and everything about travel. Sure, going to other countries is a great adventure in itself, BUT; the process of getting there is so euphoric to me. Entering the drop off spot, taking your bags out the car, ignoring the guy that wants you to pay him to carry some fucking bags, seeing all the faces you’ll only see once in your life; where are they going?
Going, waiting on line to get your tickets, people talking on the phones, conversations that make no sense to you. Meeting the person that processes your tickets, weighs your bags, and sends them off on the conveyor belt, to the unknown. Then you get checked, personal bags x-rayed hoping you didn’t leave that spare bomb in your bag
“Sir, I’m going to need you to take your belt off and everything out your pockets”
^…and they still find shit to make you beep going through metal detectors.
Then after all that bullshit, you put your shoes on, and then; you are GOD. You gain clearance into this society of people who are WORTHY enough to buy overpriced Red Bulls, $5 magazines, and useless trinkets that say shit like “I ❤ ::insert country here::” it’s lovely.
You walk around, looking at all the busy people, who the hell are they?
Why are they here with me?
Are we family?
What are the chances I get to see someone I know?
All the while, you become a family with all the other people in this section waiting to board. You see so many beautiful people of all age, and race.
It’s another world in there. It’s almost as if all humanity has been under plague by some disease, and you, YES YOU!! Only you (and others) can get clearance to escape the T-Virus killing off humanity.
You’ll meet your wife, husband, future anything, but……you’ll never see them ever again once you board. So it doesn’t matter, but it’s so delicious to look into the future. That’s so lovely.
Then after staring at a monitor with numbers, you get commanded by some “person” telling you to get ready. You then get separated, into groups, everything becomes a playful, and exciting slavery. The upper-class, the aristocrats if you will, they get First Class!
The next people get, 2nd class or whatever, then there’s coach….ohhhhh coach, the lowest but hey…you’re still apart of this lovely society. In the sky, you’re served food, and get to watch the tele, or listen to the radio, while the Earth explodes underneath your feet, but you don’t care….you’re trying to get comfortable and watch your movie.
Life is good….it’s great.