2006-01-09
Am I at an airport - or home - lately I've been getting confused
Sitting in an airport as I write this, and I feel almost more at home her than I do at... well, at home. In some ways, that's sad.
But in another way, it's like everyone else who is wed to their job (i.e. spends way too much time at it). Your life revolves around your office / job site, whatever. No different here, except that the things that seems to be the most constant are airports, hotels and restaurants, rather than the office and local watering hole for after-work drinks.
It's amazing how alike airports are. Upstairs or upper level (if large enough to be multi-level) is always check-in, downstairs is baggage claim. Smoking rules vary widely, but you can always count on a bar on the concourse that serves some semblance of food (I still can't stomach the fast food at airports). And, the one thing that is ALWAYS constant - if you are pleasant to the airline employees, they will make sure you are taken care of. Treat them like it's their personal fault that you didn't get your way, and you are sure to have more misery coming your way (smiles - I love it when I see some blow-hard storm away after berating a counter agent for some perceived slight, and you can see by the gleam in their eyes that HIS bag just won't make it to the final destination at the same time as he will).
And yet, being so similar, there are differences. Some are awful, some are great.
Great - Free wireless internet access - wooohooo! I used to be really happy to pay $6-10 for access when I had 2-3 hours to kill. Now, I get indignant. Phoenix (My home airport) has free wireless access, as do a handful of larger airports. Mid-sized airports rock with free access. Wonder when the big guys are going wise up and get on board.
Awful - I'm sad to report that Phoenix airport bar food is hit and miss, at best. One or two concourses have bars that rock with great kitchens. But most of the bars have what I call "wanna-be" kitchens that only really make sandwiches, and not very good ones at that. Poor food can kill the whole "I'm home" experience :) Armies and road warriors both travel on their stomachs (and I write this as I eat a shitty scrambled egg croissant).
Have to finish eating this gastronomical delight, have a last smoke and head for the gate. The planes themselves haven't started feeling like home yet, thank god. Its probably the lack of leg room, huh?
t85225 at 7:08 a.m.
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