The Friendly Skies

Last time I left you, I was in the terminal of the San Francisco airport waiting to board the plane. People were tired, but not restless. Just sleepy. I was full from a freshly cooked Denver omelette with breakfast potatoes, and toast (I’m hungry right now). Cranky Stank was crying in her mother’s arms, and it was 5 AM. I don’t blame her. It was early.

The one thing I love about airports is people watching!

People are amazing during their travel routines. Most are on their cellphone, laptop, or tablet passing time with games, chatter, or social media antics. Even at 5 am, heads were deep in the screen looking for a way to pass time or disconnect from surrounding reality. I was no different. I mean I had to write. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to finish because I pulled up to the gate when they were beginning the boarding process. After a brief wait, I was on the plane walking to my seat.

The middle one.

Ugh!!! Looks guys, I’m a 6’4 football build. My legs are long and my hips are wider than the seat. I do NOT want to sit in the middle! I know throwing a tantrum won’t do anything, so I manned up to take my seat and enjoy the flight as best I could. A lady was sitting in the aisle seat. She immediately sized me up, and asked me my height. I responded in kind, and just like that I was sitting in the aisle seat. How awesome is that? Such a nice gesture! She didn’t have to offer, but she displayed kindness. For that, I am thankful.

I don’t remember much of the flight other than getting bumped with the snack cart. Cranky Stank cried for a bit, and then became a joyful little kid again. Other than that, I tried to watch the back of my eyelids. I hope I didn’t snore.

We landed in Denver, and I knew the best was yet to come.

The people watching was prime, but I couldn’t stay too long. Connecting flights into North Dakota have a funny way of being all the way across the airport. So, you have to show case your fast walk skills. Bear in mind my fast walk is probably your stroll. Maybe that’s the airport’s way of telling me I need to lose weight?

After arriving to my gate, waiting in line for the bathroom, and finally finding a place to sit (It. Was. PACKED!), I relaxed and waited for the last leg home. People were once again buried in their electronics. Some were sleep. One girl was so tired she reacquainted herself with the fetal position on the floor.

With all of those people around one would figure some nonsense would happen. However, nothing occurred. People were just being people. Nice, cordial, polite conversations surrounded a Starbucks line that was creeping like a slug.

It’s amazing how freely people talk to each other at the airport. I wonder why we can’t do that in our regular lives. Maybe it’s because most people travel alone, so they are more open to talking to a stranger? I don’t know, but it’s an interesting concept to ponder. I know some people that would melt in their shoes if a stranger started a conversation with them anywhere. So, yes, there are exceptions. It could be a personal preference of mine. I’ll talk to pretty much anyone at any time in public. Why not?

After another wait, I boarded my plane for the frozen tundra (The weather has been EXCELLENT so I’m not complaining). I had a slight problem, though. If I’m boarding the plane, and I’m taller than the entry portal, then that means one thing.

Small. Seats.

I should be used to it by now, but these seats are even worse than the bigger charter flights. It’s so bad that my shoulders can LITERALLY touch both sides of the baggage compartments when I’m walking to my seat. I look like a hunchback. My shoulders and head are forward as walk toward my seat trying not to smack innocent bystanders with my backpack. All of that before I sit down. Sitting down is another story in itself -_-

It is what it is. I thank God the plane didn’t go down even when there was some turbulence. Sitting at the back of the plane when it feels like the Batman from Six Flags Over Texas will make you say Jesus real quick. But, as my Grandmother would say, Thank Him for the good, and thank Him for the bad. So, Thank you Jesus I’m home!

Thus concludes my airport adventure 🙂