Oakland Airport = So chilll…

I flew out of and into Oakland airport for the first time this past week. I even left my little tic tac behind (that’s my car) in their economy parking lot, just because I wanted to be an independent woman.

I have to say, Oakland Airport is one of the chillest (chill in that it’s relaxing) airports I’ve ever been too. My flight was delayed, which gave me enough time to notice/linger towards the nice little bar by my gate. I took some time to bond with Cardinal fans on Thursday night and watched their game while I sipped on something I let the bartender lady/queen give me because I was feeling adventurous.

I looked around at this small world, and admired all the interesting people around me. Here are some small interesting people observations. I couldn’t catch them all because I was too busy sipping on my brew:

– There is something primal about football fans. I find it beautiful when absolute strangers can bond over the color of their shirts.
– The woman who did a crossword puzzles at the bar mesmerized me, in a creepy way.
– There were two Latina/Hispanic/Brown ladies next to me while I charged my computer at the gate, and one of them kept looking over at my screen. The only interesting thing about her was that she was nosy. Other than that, I wanted to cough on her face to get her away from me.
– SouthWest is weird, in that they make you feel like cattle when you line up to enter their craft. Although we moo’d our way to the plane, I have to say most of the heifers around me kept to themselves. And I like that. Especially because I had been so stressed lately.

Life was just playing itself out in slow motion. And who am I to complain if the cosmos don’t want me to arrive somewhere on time?       Thank you, Oakland.     You forced me to relax on a stressful day. You said, “No Lis, you are going to sit your a$$ down, read that Creative Writing Magazine you’ve been meaning to crack open, and have yourself a nice cold beer. And you’re not going to complain about it either.”

And honestly, what’s to complain about? The best part of the night was allowing myself to accept the fact that dinner consisted of barbecue chips and beer.



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