Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb

First, click on the title of the post for some hilarity.

I generally enjoy airports. I usually enjoy flying. I even like turbulence. However, there have been some experiences in my flying home from Washington yesterday that made me sit back and question "what on earth was the appeal?"

Consider...

Flight 1 (Pasco to Seattle - 6:30 A.M.)
The man who sat next to me was very kind. He immediately sat down and struck up a conversation. Great with me. Except - his voice was at a decibel that was a tad inappropriate for the inside of a 14 row plane at 6:30 in the morning. He also felt the need to repeat every answer I offered to his questions...whispered by me to be courteous to the fellow passengers. I was pretty sure everyone else didn't want to know that I lived in Kansas City, that it was supposedly 12 degrees there, that I am in nursing school, etc. Ah well, he eventually drifted off to sleep - have a great time in Honolulu sir.

Flight 2 (Seattle to Denver - 11:00 A.M.)
I had a three hour layover in Seattle. It was a highlight of my day. I ate a bagel and drank coffee and browsed the bookstore. I played solitaire and read my book. I tried to learn the words of Jay-Z's interlude on Coldplay's Lost+. About 40 minutes before my plane was supposed to board, I had my next encounter. The girl who sat next to me in the airport chairs tapped my arm and asked if I had a napkin. I responded "No I don't, I'm sorry" and went back to my book.

***It was at that point that I wondered if she meant a SANITARY napkin. You know, a feminine product. If that was the case, I wish she would have asked for that by name. Because when I hear napkin, I think what came with my bagel. Definitely used that already. End tangent.***

The time came to board the plane. I waited in line for them to call my row when a woman came up to me and asked "what row are they on?", clearly in a huff and agitated. I told her as they called my row and she launched herself in front of the line that had formed, placing herself in front of the man in front of me. I got a good look at her all brown outfit.

***It bothers me when people wear all the same color - in seriousness. It's one thing if it's all black to a funeral. That is an exception. It's one thing if you wear all yellow on Halloween to be a sun. But this woman was wearing all brown - for real. She had her brown dress pants tucked into her brown UGGs, her brown fuzzy leopard print vest over her brown sweater, topped it off with her brown leather hat. It annoyed me...along with her designer bag and gold metallic rolling duffel bag. I know, I need to get over it and stop judging people. End tangent.***

When we got on the jetway, the woman dropped her duffel in the middle of the floor and bent over it to dig through the bag. The man in front of me looked annoyed, so he tried to step around her. SHE MOVED SO HE COULDN'T. After finding her book after a minute or so of searching and viciously guarding her place in line, as if her seat would be taken if she lost her place in line, she zipped up her bag and continued on.

Guess who I sat next to on the plane?

She talked a lot, not to anyone in particular, but just to herself. She made a lot of calls on her iPhone about the stonework in the entryway and spraying the lilacs. She didn't open her book once on the plane, after all the searching through the bag.

She was in the stall next to me in the bathroom and behind me in the McDonald's line. She walked behind me to and from every place, clearly annoyed that I didn't walk fast enough for her but not slow enough for her to pass me. I may have enjoyed blocking her way a little too much. She somewhat hovered over my shoulder throughout the DIA airport. She didn't continue on with me to Kansas City. Oh well.

Side note - here's a question I came up with in DIA:
Are moving walkways intended for people to rest their feet and ride their way through an airport, or are they meant to provide a means to quickly get from one end of the airport to another?

I always assumed it was the latter, but if you were to be resting your feet, you were to stand on one side of the walkway and let those moving pass on your left. Sort of like driving.

Well, the three women on the moving walkway could not be moved. They stood their ground, shoulder to shoulder, throwing eye rolls to me as they carried their luggage with cherries and designer symbols. They may not have actually rolled their eyes. But they really didn't move to the right for me to pass. So the people outside the walkway actually got to the end of the airport more quickly than I.

The joys of flying. At least I wasn't on this plane - there's one thing for which to be thankful. Who knew geese could be so dangerous???