Waiting for a flight is a hellish experience. You are in this weird place, where everything looks exactly the same; rows and rows of the same, people silently waiting.
The prices for normal things are extremely overpriced. All of a sudden you question whether you really need that eight dollar bottle of water. You can get a drink at 6 a.m., which just seems wrong. You have to keep all of your prized possessions within arms reach for the entire time, for fear of losing it or being questioned for leaving your possessions unattended.
Everyone is stressed.
Everyone is waiting for something completely out of their control.
Some people are nervous, others angry, and no one is content.
Everyone is in a period of purgatory; waiting for the next thing to happen because time in an airport is not considered real time. Nothing of importance has ever happened in an airport terminal.
It’s the loneliest place to be alone.
To have no one to save a seat for you, watch your bag when you go to the restroom and share a meal with.
The only person to socialize with is the server, while you wait for a lackluster, ridiculously overpriced meal.
You scroll through your Instagram feed, try to enjoy your meal and wait the forty-five minutes until boarding time. It seems like the only place in the world that time moves slowly in my life; time moves agonizingly slowly for me in airports.
This time though, something changed. My flight was overbooked and someone needed to volunteer their spot. Volunteer a spot that we have all already paid for? Volunteer to go through security again?
It does not feel right or just.
You feel powerless.
You become very secular and selfish; as long as you are not the one getting bumped, you will be fine.
We become mean, selfish and not willing to inconvenience ourselves. Why should we have to suffer even more than we already are?
I volunteered to go on a later flight. The airport staff were extremely relieved and a bit shocked that someone actually volunteered. I wait now, to leave for a trip that I should have already started, but I am okay with it.
I am okay with the fact that I have return to the hellish world of the airport in less than twelve hours, but at least I got to make someone’s day better. I don’t know who would have been bumped, maybe it would have been me, but if it was going to be someone else, I am glad I could help them.
It makes me feel like there is a chance for goodness for us all, even in some of the worst places.