The airport has WiFi! It's slow, but it works. Since it's free, I won't complain. Not too much, anyway.

I have a love-hate relationship with airports. I mean, you sit and wait, and wait and wait and wait, and it's uncomfortable, and there are strangers and germs and you always think you're two seconds away from being mugged or drugged (well, maybe that's just me...), but there's something exciting about being on the brink of something new, of getting on a great big hunk of metal that somehow doesn't fall out of the sky, of watching a bunch of nervous strangers reading or staring or eating greasy food (I already had mine).

I've talked to a few people, even though that's breaking one of Mom's rules of travel:

• Keep your back to the wall.
• Put your purse around your neck.
• Don't talk to strangers.

Thing is, I kinda like strangers. I always talk to them. Sure, they're strangers, and I'll probably never see them again, but there's something I like about the freedom that comes with a conversation with a stranger. There aren't really too many rules. You don't have to talk about things you have in common. You don't have to talk about work, or the weather, or your family. But you can if you want. And if you want, you can just talk about where they came from, where they're going, why the WiFi is so slow, what kind of work they do. And in a travel situation, since you can be fairly certain you'll never see the stranger again, there's this refreshing, liberating feeling of confidence in which you can look over and smile shyly at a handsome stranger, and just a smile in return feels like you've just had a really amazing first date. He might not remember it after he takes another step, but you will, and it's worth it all because there's no aftermath.

Turning my attention back to the strangers.

Labels: travel