i’m sitting in this airport and, as usual, i have no idea what i’m about to write. i feel like i’ve been doing this a lot lately. i just want to write something but i don’t get a lot of time to do so… and frankly, i kind of forgot i had a tumblr til now. real talk.
but yea, soo my flight has been delayed. i still don’t know the reason why really… i heard something about congestion?… and so my connector flight had to be changed as well. aside from eating a heart attack (a double meat burger with bacon), i’m looking around the airport and it’s nice, but i can’t help but think of ways that it can be improved upon. customer service, you know? i find i do that a lot and i’ve done that a lot this trip… and its only been 24 hours.
for instance, i believe that there should be a place like a coat check
PAUSE
this restaurant is playing “where my girls at.” wow.
but yea there should be a place where you can check your bag while you wait for your flight. like… i’ve traveled alone a lot the past few year or two and no matter how i pack, if i have to hang out at an airport for a long time, i inevitably get tired of carrying my bag(s). like i just got a mini massage at this relaxation place (bc i had just learned my flight was delayed 2-3 hours and i won’t be making it back home until midnight or past it and because i’m carrying these heavy a bags
uh uh. they are playing “i wanna sex you up.” mind you. i’m only commenting on this bc this genre of music is a recent phenomenon in this place and i’ve been sitting here a good 45 min. let’s not even talk about how the woman next to me watched me bite into this huge heart attack and after i had come up for air, she said
“i was wondering how you were going to eat that”
yea i had only bitten the bottom cuz there was NO WAY that my mouth was going to make it otherwise.. but still. all up in my meal. cmon woman
and pause again.
this other guy just sat down next to me and commented about how he noticed the sun was in my face and about how he perfectly positioned himself beside me so that this random beam would block HIM from the sunlight. basically.. he hoed my life and uplifted his. then outta nowhere, some blinds came down. electronically. all the while “woop there it is” comes on
…this restaurant is doing thee MOST. and do i have a sign on my forehead that says “yea i may be busy but i want to talk to you?” for the grace of God, i hope not.
but umm…heavy bags. i got the massage bc i was carrying heavy bags and my phone was dead and my computer was dying and bc i randomly acquired freakin time to get a freakin massage.
so i put my bags down and the guy receptionist at the massage place says something like “ahh so THAT’s the problem.” i cut my eyes at him (not really) and proceed to get the best 20 min massage of my life. girl started off kinda rocky, but towards the end i was seeeeriously contemplating paying extra for more heaven. but she finished and i got up and gave my bags a dirty look bc i knew they were about to nix the high i was feeling. the buzzkill to my relaxed stupor. not the ying to my yang.
so i lug the bags and come to this restaurant. with these bags that cause me to hit people at every turn. this one bag i’m carrying is so oddly shaped, i can’t put it in the overhead compartment on the plane, but it can fit under the seat. it has no wheels… so i never get a break. but i say all this to confirm that this place needs a bag check. i don’t think it’s too much to ask. OR if it can find responsible people, they should pay ppl to stay with your bags so you can go get something to eat, for instance— especially if you have a long wait time/layover. it’s the LEAST they could do. spoiled much? no. quite the opposite. i’ve been through a lot traveling girl, traveling small, traveling alone. places like these are not so friendly to ppl like moi.
alright. STOP the presses. now they’re playing destinys child. i may never leave.
let me get back to this heart attack. i still got a 1/4 left.
