In the Airport, Again

The conversation to my left is super intense. I sat down with a wholesome sandwich which will hopefully put me in a food coma on my upcoming flight, when two guys, late twenties, asked to sit at the table to my right. They may have caught me picking my nose.

The ensuing conversation was therapeutic in nature, during which Gentlemen 1 encouraged Gentlemen 2 to press through life's crap, drop alcohol because he is beyond that life stage, and not be afraid to fail. And, WOAH!, he is telling his companion to stay in Vegas. Call the woman who offered you a job and STAY! I feel inspired. Maybe I'll stay... I hear dancers make good money.

The past year, I have spent much time alone in airports. While I enjoy sharing memories and experiences with those closest to me, there is a liberating aspect of being one among millions. If there is one place capable of shrinking you to that infinitesimal size, it is Las Vegas. I wandered the strip for eight hours today, attempting to absorb all of its grandeur. Indeed, there was much to absorb. Bums used various tactics to obtain money. Drop dead gorgeous women flaunted their flawless bodies arm in arm with equally beautiful men. Drunk girls linked arms and stumbled down the boulevard. Elderly married couples stood hand in hand, waiting for the famous Bellagio fountain to spout.

In situations such as these, you find that while you are one among millions, so are those around you. In that, there is a common bond. When in the company of loved ones, this faint bond is often ignored, because the other is so strong. However, when alone, you are able to appreciate this bond, as it is all you have. I find myself saying hi to the Starbuck's worker when I may not have, or engaging in conversation when I otherwise would be chatting with a close friend.

And these conversations are sometimes my favorite. I talked to a very efficient flight attendant, and he told me the scope of his capabilities. He was able to service fifty seats in thirty minutes, as he was the best in the business. In his words, he "turned it on and turned it up." I had a lovely conversation with my cab driver en route the airport, which opened with him guessing I was from Ohio. Apparently, my laid back attitude and lack of accent were strong indications. Even as I was writing this, the gentlemen to my right broke conversation and we were able to discuss issues deeper than the Indians. When it was over, I bid them farewell with a "God bless."