Today I went to the airport to pick up a family member. I kept remembering how beautiful the sight of families meeting and hugging. That look of anticipation itself that you find on people's faces is worth a million dollars; and that worried look when they announce a delay on the flight schedule on the big black board that tells people how far are they from meeting their loved ones and holding them tight; and the eyes that speak with tears as their native language saying 'I'll never let you go again'.

It was 3:30 pm when I left to the airport. The flight was scheduled to arrive in Cairo at around 5 pm, but my parents wanted to be there earlier and wait. My mother kept saying what if her flight arrives early and she finds no one there. Oh well, God bless the information desk. I called them up and they assured me that the flight is due to arrive at 5 pm so I figured that time is a fact that is easily killed… after all we're talking about one lousy hour anyways. The moment we got there, they told us that there's been a delay and that the plane's going to land at 6 pm. Damn information… I'll go get me a Mad Magazine and kill off the extra hour. Of course 6 pm meant that we're going to have to break our fasting at the airport. We only had some dates and small bottles of water with us… and the food they sell at airports ain't exactly food if you know what I mean.

By 5:30 they said that there's been a mistake. The flight's going to arrive at 7:01 pm.

7:01?! I mean WTF man?!

The flight got delayed by two hours so '01' doesn't exactly say accuracy, does it?

The peak of my rage was too high that if I had jumped I'd have probably died. I went in search for the information desk only to find no one there. The office was empty, left with a big shiny sign that said INFORMATION to make people feel like someone inside that office knows something that we don't, but with nothing but emptiness inside, all I had to do was to go and wait for one more hour then walk off to the cafeteria, order a cup of coffee and drown my growing rage in it. I didn't smoke any cigarettes since I'm on the verge of quitting so I thought what the hell, one or two more nicotine free hours ain't going to kill anybody.

Information my ass!! Those lying bastards!! Yeah you better run you pathetic piece of…

I don't know if it was people's lack of nicotine or whether that's how airport love has turned into, but everyone waiting for flight 312 was seriously beyond pissed. I even had my own share of the drama when I fought with a woman who had that look like she's just killed her husband and cut him into small pieces that would fit her Metro market plastic bags. She even called a cop to take me away. Can you bellieeeeve that shit?! The nerves on that… Grrr

Everyone was fighting, yelling, getting ready to rock'n'roll. The 60 year old policemen were all shouting in vain and one of them looked like he'd need a doctor soon.

Oh I don't think I like airports anymore.

At one moment, I knew if I had a bazooka I would have blasted every single one of those annoying people out of existence. Now that I think about it, I was annoying myself, and I don't think it's just the lack of nicotine that made me see the hatred all around me. I do think that the airport theme has changed.

I holstered my bazooka back into my imaginary belt and that's when she walked through the gate, my sister and her little one.

Oh I hated today… but it was totally worth it.

PS One last piece of advice, if you're planning on going to the airport anytime soon, make sure your gun ain't loaded. The mind gets tricky there when you're staring at a big black board that knows nothing whatsoever. God damn information!!

Posted by Яαgιи Яαvєи on Friday, September 29, 2006 at 9/29/2006 10:30:00 PM | Permalink