Nightglow Window

Another Sunday in the airport.

Humid today, with virga hanging in sheets from the heights and I sit and stare in San Diego's Terminal One with 90 minutes to kill. “Marcus Tinkle check in at gate 15.” My subconscious Beavis begins to giggle: “She said tinkle.”

It’s a two-hour hop today over to Denver and then a Super Shuttle up to Boulder where “The Meetings” will commence from 8:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. (with a one-hour break) for two days and then home. Ah well, it will be fun to see the Flatirons and how the NYC Mother Ship looks after its editors when they’re away from home, plus walking down Pearl Street, and that Burrito joint, and hanging with the rest of the Tee-Dub Oceanside crew.

But now it’s the wait. The San Diego airport is always good for people watching and this morning is no different. A thought occurs. With the wonders of Homeland Security, all the future airport drama in feature films will take place in front of the security checkpoint.

Gone for good will be those long Steadicam shots of the hero (or, even better, the heroine) running through the terminal to the final gate to be reunited with true love (or hopeless love – although Hollywood would have us believe this doesn’t exist) on the jetway.

Now all that’s changed.

fade in …
He enters the departure terminal and the white roar of the crowd rolls over him. He scans the faces, subconsciously looking for her. A small bud of hope rises in his heart, and it disgusts him in its futility. He tries to stamp it out as he fiddles with his backpack straps. And yet he still feels that green shoot take hold, the idea that eyes are upon him (or if not upon him now, then nearby and searching, or frantically racing to where he is).

Bags checked and boarding ticket in hand, he lingers. It’s a pause a bit too long and his hopes of being resolute fade.

He enters the current of the escalator, allows himself to be taken by the tide of the security checkpoint line, one final, fruitless look at the check-in area below.
fade to black…

A bit maudlin, I suppose. Hollywood would no doubt have her appear just as he crossed the metal detector, wild scream and fierce hug as they reunite.

The flight is oversold and they are looking for passengers to give up their seat. A free roundtrip ticket is offered. I stay put and continue the wait.