Airport lounges

I was recently privileged to spend 7 hours of my day in an airport lounge, due to a flight cancellation, and excessive delays. (Read: groan, why does this happen to me?).

The interesting thing about airport lounges is that so many diverse people come through it every day. They may stay for a short time, they may be there awhile, they may sleep there overnight. You end up having conversations with random strangers with whom you have nothing in common, and in any other situation would not have given a passing thought to. You get to people watch, browse in the shops, watch the planes take off and land.

After awhile, it starts feeling like home. Not a real home, but it has a familiar feel to it. When you are forced to use a public bathroom multiple times a day after drinking lots of water due to nausea, you pick a favorite stall. You walk into the same store a few times hoping something new will jump out at you. You run down the same corridor and speed walk on the moving walkway enough times, and it feels like your own living room.

I noticed the same guy cleaning up the lounge a few times. I guess they work in shifts. What amazes me is how tidy an airport is. Because thousands of people pass through there every day, they are forced to clean up constantly. Pick up trash, vacuum the carpet, clean the bathrooms. It is not just one person they are picking up after, but thousands every day.

A friend asked me if I think they get paid well. I have no idea. Being a janitor is not considered a good job in any culture. It is demeaning to pick up after other people. I would not want to do that in any capacity. But a job is a job.

So they go around with their vacuums and their cleaning carts and they pick up after lazy selfish people who do not clean up after themselves. Somehow, there is a mentality that it is okay to litter in a public place, as it is not your own home so 'who cares'? But if you spent considerable time there you might think differently.

I always wanted to work in an airport. There is such energy all the time. You can blend into the background and just observe, and there is always so much to see and hear and people to meet.

But somehow, curling up in a ball on the floor with your head on the chair as a pillow makes you wish you were anywhere but there. Perhaps at home, in your own bed, after a long shower to wash off the 'travel dust'.

No, I would not live in an airport lounge.

Eating pringles gets old real fast.