Stories from the Airport

When I waited in the security line, they announced “Take your toiletries out of your bag.” The woman in front of me turned to me and said, “I have a bunch of tampons in there. Do I need to take those out?”

“No,” I reassure her. They mean liquids like shampoo and toothpaste.

We both giggle at the thought of handing a bag full of tampons to a male security guard.

“Excuse me, Ma’am” the shoe shine man calls out to a stunning black woman as she passes his booth. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she answers and veers slightly into his domain.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” He asks.

I didn’t hear her initial answer, but the conversation made me smile. They exchanged a few words, and then the woman continued her walk toward her gate calling back, “I hope not, I’m married.” I couldn’t resist a glance back, to see a huge smile on her face.

How could anyone not feel positive with a brief and friendly interaction like that?

I find a seat in the middle of the waiting area by my gate and start subtly observing the people around me in hopes that I will discover a story. There is the man with the gruff face who looks like he has serious thoughts going through his brain. His face reflects intensity and sadness. There is the business man who flaunts his importance as he talks loudly on his cell phone. Behind me sits the group of students reflecting on their futures as they discuss classwork and dream weddings. Their conversation then moves on to going on missions for the church, and I can’t help but shudder. I catch a glimpse of their shirts, and they are from Oral Roberts University. Enough said. (No offense intended, anyone).

People all around me read big, thick books that you know they brought (or bought) for this occasion. My own new book lies tucked in my carry-on waiting for me to pull it out.

A man sits in front of me and pulls out his cell phone to check for messages or technology. His eyes meet mine and he shares a brief smile. That is refreshing.

My observations will continue, to see what stories I can discover.

I must say, the flight from Tulsa to Dallas was full of friendly people. The man across the aisle from me took my bag without a word and put it up in the bin. Now, you might think that’s rude, but given my 5 ft. and shrinking stature, I always appreciate a friendly assist to get my luggage overhead.

I sat next to a woman who wanted to talk. That doesn’t happen very often. She seemed really nice so we chatted. Within the first 10 minutes of conversation I learned that she was probably one of the only other Democrats on the flight. Don’t ask me why she revealed that so easily. She even said, “I know we’re not supposed to talk politics, but . . . ”  I guess I come off as the a liberal hippie that I really am. It must be in my aura.

That first flight was fun.

The airport in Dallas was a little annoying, as they didn’t post gate assignments anywhere, and I had already forgotten what they announced by the time I got off the plane. But at least they were friendly when I asked. ;)

The second flight was a little less fun, as I was way in the back of the plane, sitting with a mother and daughter. I liked listening to their Indian accents, but then the girl got whiny so I had to tune out. I didn’t really get a chance to talk to them. The family was clearly from India (the father and son sat behind us), and I wanted to know their story.

Maybe I’ll have to make it up.

Once I figured out how to get to my hotel, I talked to a nice lady from Boston on the shuttle. Her response when I said I was coming from Kansas, “Well . . .(long pause) that’s and . . . interesting . . . place to be coming from.”

My thoughts exactly.

But now I’m in Seattle with more adventures to come! [Update, I took a walk around Seattle Center with my friend and got some interesting shots.]