My latest secret shopping excursion landed me at the airport. Most people would have been greatly perturbed at the notion of leaving a BBQ on a Friday night to ride around in an airport shuttle and submit a report, but I was energized. Instead of taking the airport for what it is at face value – a falsely-secured medium through which travel is procured with the occasional gastric or media distraction – I choose to look at the bigger picture. The airport is a human source of energy, thought, and inspiration in one of its simplest forms. All of the people making their way through the airport have a purpose, whether it be to close a multi-million dollar sale for a pharmaceutical company or personally deliver a happy birthday message to a loved one.
Like a tapeworm trapped in the belly of the terminal, I feed off of this energy. Within a few moments of settling in last evening, I completed an article I had been putting off and began some outlining for a new project I am working on. Glance up, spot a red-faced, large sunglasses wearing tourist, an idea hits, get back to work for a few minutes, and then come up for air again and overhear a conversation that puts me in a new direction. This went on for about 45 minutes last night, and after getting an incredible amount of work accomplished, we packed up our mobile office and headed back to the house.
I think the airport is going to be my new hangout, I may even change my physical address to reflect this change. The TSA do not seem to think too much about a couple of 20-somethings setting up shop in some unused chairs lining the US Airways/Jet Blue check-in lines, so this very well may be my new office. Heck, they even turned the other way when I was practically hanging over the balcony to take some pictures of the insuing mayhem taking place at baggage claim, not to mention the 30 second video Butterfinger took of the entire check-in area. The commute is reasonable, the office has nice restrooms and eateries, in addition to having a great view of the water. There are a lot of like-minded people constantly coming and going through the gates, and I could even probably sneak Tucker and Guapo in if I had them fitted for a couple of “service dog” vests.
