Airport - At the Airport
You can walk along in the airport and experience beauty. An airport is a forced habitat that constitutes that the rich have to walk with the poor. The plane itself can delineate you into sections but the airport is nothing but retail. The airport is nothing but mediocre. Queen Elizabeth arrives at BWI just like I do. George Clooney takes a piss in the same urinal as me.
The airport is also a hot breed for really hot women. I walk through airports biting my knuckles repeatedly. The jeans that ride a little too low because they just got off the plane. The college girls with the low riding sweat pants traveling in packs like a pride looking for a male lion.
It is also one of the only places where you can sit in public and watch a movie and not blink an eye about it. You can pull up with "Big Fish" while sitting in really uncomfortable leather chairs and no one will look in your direction. The airport is the purgatory of America. We all meet there at some point on our wayward passage home.
An airport, despite eutopic surroundings and a heavenly egalitarian environment, does need one thing. It nee\ds a fighting pit. It needs a place where you take the airport phonies to have the shit kicked out of them by either yourself or by Rungonamis the Airport ass kicker extraordinaire. You can call out the 22 year old sales professional in his pink shirt with purple striped tie. You can take his Black Berry remote control missile launcher and break it over his head which has it's correctly suitable 8 months too late for cool messed hair.
I mean I sit here listening to Mr Brightside and you know what I think about as I pound down Glennfiddich and waters? I sit here and I wish Jas was next to me. I wish I was making her smile and she was laughing at me because I was a goofball typing away and swaying back and forth and mouthing the words to the song that currently really reminds me of her. But all I have to do to get over that temporary anxiety is remember who I am and where I am going in life. I'm going to the stars or hell. I'm going to win or I'm going to lose bigger than anyone you've ever seen. It's coming and I know it and I welcome it.
I sit here and scream out at the universe "Come and fucking get me! I'm more than ready for anything you've got to give me. You took my father. You took my love. You afflicted me with me and now it's time for you to come up at me and man up as though we are playing the same game. I know the rules now! I KNOW THE RULES NOW! I am ready to receive your next move and I say to that move "What a fucking mistake to underestimate to me. How dare you play me short as though you already have this in the bag"
I am lord sitting here. Everyone else is eating cheeseburgers and trying to look important as they make eye contact while on their phones. "Yeah I said sell at 22". 'Of course you need to have that on my desk by Monday." Etc... All bullshit. All posturing. All airport life. All a struggle. In this place where we all are in the same waiting line and we are all in the same bar drinking, why choose to segregate to yourself. Why not choose to run up to me and give me a hug and buy me a drink the same I would to you if you weren't wearing a purple fucking tie and pink shrit.