If you have ever watched “Up in the Air,” I am the George Clooney character. For most people, airport terminals are a necessary evil to the process of transporting themselves from Point A to Point B. For me, airport terminals feel like home. I love the hustle and bustle. I love the emotions that hang in the air as thick as the San Francisco fog. I love the stories, because everyone has one.
San Jose had an open house today for their new terminal, so I just had to go. I met up with Second Chair and The Hawaiian Hottie, and we thought that we’d spend an hour learning about the artwork. Instead, we spent five hours, posing for pictures, drinking in bars, and joyriding through the new wing.
When we “checked in”, I asked if it was okay to take photos. They said yes, so I did, although I did choose to avoid taking photos of the security checkpoint.
We spend the first hour posing for photos. And looking at the artwork. And then we found a bar. So we posed for more photos and had a beer. The woman next to us had flown in to see her daughters who are students at UC Santa Cruz. She asked if we go to school there because we were talking about playing beer pong. I explained that I haven’t been an undergrad for 15 years, but thanks. I told her she couldn’t be possibly old enough to have a daughter in college, let alone two. She appreciated the compliment.
On our way to the next bar, The Hawaiian Hottie said something to the guy driving the airport golf cart and he told us all to hop in. Things were pretty quiet at that point, so he gave us our own personal tour of the terminal. I asked how fast he could get that thing moving and he said he’d love to show us, but couldn’t. As soon as we found some real passengers, we hopped out so he could go back to work.
Then we found the second bar for margaritas. And sports. Watched the Red Sox win as well as the USA mens volleyball team against Finland. Talked with a couple who were pounding a drink before catching their flight to Las Vegas. Chatted with the bartender about the ebb and flow of people throughout the week. It comes down to this: fly Saturday, avoid Thursday.
He gave us a tasting of local wine, and we ordered appetizers. I had no idea how we managed to spend five hours wandering the airport, but it passed quickly.