I have been up for 15 hours already and it is only 4:36 pm. The fact that we set our clocks back an hour combined with the 3 hour time change has me anticipating an interesting rest of my evening.
Currently, I am writing this post while sitting at the Detroit airport in a very comfortable chair. Christina and Mackenzie’s flight wasn’t direct, and I wasn’t about to turn down a free ride from Christina’s dad back to U of M so I offered to wait the 2 hours for them. So I have spent these 2 precious, relaxing hours reading, people watching and writing this post.
People in airports are so incredibly interesting, especially the ones who set up shop at little coffee shops, like I am now. I feel weird staring at them for too long, so I appear completely engrossed in my book or my phone or my computer as I listen to their conversations. The couple sitting at the table next to me is quite adorable. I would guess them to be about 65 and both have their own newspapers. Normally, reading the newspaper is an independent routine. For this couple, it could not be less independent. Each time something particularly interesting catches their eye, they’ll lean over excitedly to the other, pointing animatedly and giving a summary of what they have just discovered. It also helps that they have British accents and are both daintily sipping on mini cups of expresso.
Another older lady is sitting alone. Although we are very much so indoors, she wears a pair of dark sunglasses. With her arched eyebrows, cropped hair and dark shades, you could imagine her being a retired member of the FBI until you glance down at her choice of leggings and footwear. Contrasting to her dark maroon sweater, she wears a pair of light grey leggings with hectic black zigzags running all the way down to her green and navy blue striped socks and her feet. Her croc-clad feet. That is correct, ladies and gentlemen, this woman is wearing crocs– army green crocs, no less– in the Detroit airport. I cannot imagine that they would feel particularly good once she steps outside into the 30 degree temperatures, but maybe she is going somewhere else. She does speak rapid french into her impressive iPhone 6, occasionally picking at a mini chocolate cake that she bought at least 45 minutes ago and has barely made a dent in, so maybe somewhere foreign is in her future.
I wonder what people are thinking about me, sitting in the corner table with my computer out and my Michigan sweatshirt. I feel as though I am pretty easy to read, but maybe not. Maybe croc-lady is taking me in with as much curiosity as I have her.
Until tomorrow, everyone!