I am now seated at the airport lounge waiting for my flight which will be in 4 hours and a half from now. I have realized how that news I watched last night about stranded passengers at the airport was a bit too exaggerated that I had to run off to the airport 5 hours before my actual departure time. Now, I don’t exactly know what to do to keep myself busy and to forget about the waiting time. I know I can sleep in one of the benches but I am afraid I would wake up only after 100 years. I did not bring any interesting book to read and keep my mind off the thing that is constantly creeping in my mind (that monster again). I admit I am embarrassed in turning my laptop on amidst all these strangers around me but there is nothing else sensible to do in this kind of place but that. So … here I am writing down my thoughts while my eyes are busy over confused, panicky and overloaded passengers at the queue. I could type fast without looking at the keyboards so I think I will enjoy this little thing I am doing now – observing strangers withouth making them notice that I am writing about them. I think doing just that offers the same excitement for me as reading a popular paperback.
I can see two young children wearing exactly the same pair of shorts with the red and white stripes now. They look cute in them I admit, but with both their parents beside them wearing exactly the same make me think twice about the cuteness. This thing also gives me a hint that they are Koreans. I have observed many of them at airports before- couples would gladly want to be identified with each other by wearing exactly the same outfits. I don’t know if this is part of their culture but since I have noticed this in most of the Koreans alone, my doubts remain slim.
How about a touch of springtime with a rose-covered shirt and a butterfly-covered pair of pants on a young lady like her? She looks confused now while talking to the receptionist and I just hope it has got nothing to do with the Christmas weather.
As I am looking to my right, I am noticing a gay trying to push his cart way through the crowd while at the same time trying to project a very feminine kind of fragility. His fingers flaunt a scarlet nail polish dashed with diamond stones (this makes me glance at my own fingernails which needs a little cleaning now) on top of one of his luggage in attempts of preventing the entire pile from toppling down – he failed.
Three young Russian hunks are now seated next to me ( I know they are Russians by the passports the passports in their hands). Two start to plug their laptops to the hubs by the wall and as they are now showcasing the brands of their notebooks, I suddenly feel that its time to keep my one behind its case. ( my laptop is old and has got that little translucent Apple sticker on it which I stuck there 2 years ago to desperately hide the exorbitant emblem of a cheaper-than-Mac- brand).
The gay with those flaming scarlet nails is perhaps thinking how lucky it is to be in my seat now with these three guys- he is now headed to the vacant seat in front of us.
Now I guess it is time for me to sit and wait near the check-in counters just to make sure I get the chance to choose a good seat after being here for more than 4 hours. I am now starting to feel so excited to see my daughter and my mom. Besides, nobody must see the truth behind my laptop's Apple mask
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