The Airport
Today the Navy has asked me if I wouldn't mind coming to the airport here in Tokyo to pick up a guy who will be checking into our squadron. He's an Airman who is fresh out of basic training and this will be his new home for the next two to three years and I will be his first impression of the military overseas. What of that?
I took the base shuttle bus which got me here entirely too early and I have nothing to do until he gets here but stroll the terminal and post this messege in the interent cafe next to a sushi bar. I actually like being in international airports. You get a great feel for the mindset of the people around you. They are all either excited to be going on some kind of trip or another, or they are getting used to the idea of business as usual upon returning. It is all very fascinating. Couples either saying good bye or being reunited. There is an English family nearby where the mother and young daughter are playing 'paper, rock, scissors' to pass the time. The daughter seems pretty skeptical that paper does, in fact, beat rock. I agree, you can throw a rock through paper, or at the very least do more damage to it that the paper could to the rock.
I am positively brooding at reading the departure signs. Just knowing that with the swipe of the credit card I could be in Sydney by nightfall, San Fransisco by midnight, or Paris by tomorow afternoon makes me want to abandon my life here and just go. Of course then my Airman would be stranded in a country he knows nothing of, and the Navy would flex their long arm to retreive their new petty officer. The legal issues alone would keep me here for another three years which makes the means not at all worth the ends. Still, its the kind of thing you read about in good books.
Continually checking the arrivals sign, I am making sure American Airlines flight 165 from Los Angeles is still on time and my charge doesn't keep me here until all hours of the night. I don't think I could take another cup of this Starbucks coffee, which tastes (appropriately)like it was made in an airport.
I have a few more chapters in the book I am reading which should hold me through the next two hours until our man arrives.
Paris by tomorow afternoon. Yeesh I need to get out of here.
I took the base shuttle bus which got me here entirely too early and I have nothing to do until he gets here but stroll the terminal and post this messege in the interent cafe next to a sushi bar. I actually like being in international airports. You get a great feel for the mindset of the people around you. They are all either excited to be going on some kind of trip or another, or they are getting used to the idea of business as usual upon returning. It is all very fascinating. Couples either saying good bye or being reunited. There is an English family nearby where the mother and young daughter are playing 'paper, rock, scissors' to pass the time. The daughter seems pretty skeptical that paper does, in fact, beat rock. I agree, you can throw a rock through paper, or at the very least do more damage to it that the paper could to the rock.
I am positively brooding at reading the departure signs. Just knowing that with the swipe of the credit card I could be in Sydney by nightfall, San Fransisco by midnight, or Paris by tomorow afternoon makes me want to abandon my life here and just go. Of course then my Airman would be stranded in a country he knows nothing of, and the Navy would flex their long arm to retreive their new petty officer. The legal issues alone would keep me here for another three years which makes the means not at all worth the ends. Still, its the kind of thing you read about in good books.
Continually checking the arrivals sign, I am making sure American Airlines flight 165 from Los Angeles is still on time and my charge doesn't keep me here until all hours of the night. I don't think I could take another cup of this Starbucks coffee, which tastes (appropriately)like it was made in an airport.
I have a few more chapters in the book I am reading which should hold me through the next two hours until our man arrives.
Paris by tomorow afternoon. Yeesh I need to get out of here.