“Let us weigh your baggage please.” “Would you like your luggage wrapped?” “May I see your flight details?” “EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME!”
There’s something both horrible and exciting when stepping foot into an airport. Between the hustle and bustle of people both milling around at a snail’s pace ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the country’s claim-to-fame airport store (Smoked salmon? Kilt wearing potatoes? Eiffel Tower key chains?) and others crashing into each other like waves against fat seals, the energy of an airport- whether it be a large or small- tends to have an effect on me emotionally, physically, and for those of us with extra care for vanity and comfort- my aesthetics.