And it’s lift off… into the new year, that is, and done in nothing less Up in the Air’s George Clooney than on a flight. International flight, as well.
So, sitting alone at San Francisco International, without WIFI and bored… with nearly two hours to spare. Yes, I went all paranoid about security and arrived two hours plus, thinking after the Christmas-day-near-tragedy, the security is probably beefed up to the level of personal violations (aka full body scanners) and bomb-sniffing dogs after my strawberry Pocky sticks. But nope. With so little flights going out tonight (December 31st), the international departure terminal even dimmed its lights and taped off closed check-in counters. Security was also one of the breeziest, if not enjoyable experiences I’ve ever had. Not only did the guard checking my passport wish me a “happy new year”, probably sarcastically, the man before me also passed along gray tubs to place my belongings. In no less than five minutes time, I was determined as not a terrorist, just a cheap flyer, catching a flight to London on New Year’s Eve night.
That brings me to, NOBODY flies on New Year’s Eve. I’ve never seen Christmas night, which probably gives New Year’s Eve a running for the least ideal time to fly, but there’s barely a peep in the airport. I think everyone has embodied a sense of sadness that they’re flying on a night where booze, family, friends, kissing, and silly 2010 glasses are involved. I have too.
Anyway, moving on from my self-pity, LONDON! Fine, I’m not actually that excited that the caps end in an exclamation point. Another semester abroad, and yes, that is a pseudonym for another semester of travelling but this time with a tightening wallet. Actually, a coin purse now. The deadly combination of several “cheap” trips and visas prohibiting employment. Sorry, more self-pity.
Ahh, pull it together. You’re George Clooney.
Location: Gate 96, Terminal 1, San Francisco International Airport
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